


Safety

by bamf_librarian (librawrian)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Kidnapping, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, being mean to his soulmate, scary bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 13:46:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 22,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10023497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librawrian/pseuds/bamf_librarian
Summary: Soulmate AU! Bucky/OFC. Our soulmarks appear at the moment of our soulmate's birth.  Bucky's mark appears in the Spring of 1987.  The words imprinted into the skin of his forearm.  "Please!  Don't hurt me..."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at some Bucky fic. Also timelines aren't a thing, this is random trash.

The words appeared at some point during a mission in the Spring of 1987.  The asset returned to base sporting a fresh array of rapidly healing cuts and bruises after successfully dispatching a troublesome S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. The soulmark was discovered after he’d stripped for medical inspection.  The words, imprinted into his skin in a wavy hand, extended from the inner right wrist and upward toward his elbow.  “Please!  Don’t hurt me...”

  


“ _ Soldat _ .  What is that on your arm?” the doctor asked.  His face remained blank, not giving away the twinge of alarm he felt at this development.  As far as he knew there was no plan to respond to the advent of Winter Soldier meeting his soulmate.

  


The asset’s dark, empty eyes narrowed for a moment as he glanced down at his arm, apparently noticing the mark for the first time.  The doctor watched as his eyes slid over the shakily written words, reading the message, the plea.  Long minutes passed before the soldier opened his mouth to respond, “My soul mark.”

  


No amount of wiping or brainwashing could remove the knowledge of those words from the asset’s brain.  Hydra tried surgical removal only to discover that the words would reappear, blending with the patient’s scars as if to embrace them.  Eventually, years past, and the Winter Soldier’s handlers settled on a wait and see approach.  Even if the man met this soulmate he could always be programmed to retrieve the person and present them to HYDRA for conditioning. 

  


***

  


I was born with the words stamped across my wrist in bold military typeface.  “You’re safe now.”  My mother thought it was a blessing of good health and safekeeping.  But as I grew and learned to understand the words and their meaning, I also understood the implication that one day I would be in danger.  And my soulmate would be the one to save me.

  


For some these words might have inspired a life of risk taking, hoping to trigger the fated meeting and soulbond.  But I was a timid child.  I feared the seemingly inevitable circumstances that would lead me to my soulmate.  Would I be kidnapped? Held hostage? Victim of a natural disaster?  Maybe it would be a minor traffic accident.  I suppose I went through life expecting disaster.  Still, when it finally happened I was unprepared.

  


That I was born with the words meant that my soulmate was very likely older than I was.  The words appear when the mate is born.  As a child I often imagined my own words blooming across the chubby forearm of a toddler or baby at the moment of my birth.  As I grew older I worried that maybe my soulmate was much older, too old.  I’d heard of it happening.  Still, I was better off than the poor kids whose names didn’t appear until second or third grade.  The other children would sneer and laugh and call them “cradle robbers.”

  


I wonder--now, after everything--what Bucky must have thought all those years ago.  To be twenty-seven years old without a soulmark.  Had he despaired?  Was he anxious?  Or maybe he’d felt a sense of freedom without it.  I often wonder, too, what the Winter Soldier thought when he saw my words appear on his skin like a curse.  Did he think anything at all apart from the programmed strategy driven into his head?  Did he feel anything?

  


***

  


The day it happened I was leaving the Avengers Tower after a mediocre job interview.  The tech department was hiring an administrative assistant and even though I had no interest whatsoever in the field of computer science or biotech or whatever...I did have an English degree: the honor of administrative assistants everywhere.  And I really could have used a full time job with decent pay and benefits (dental!?).  I was feeling bad for myself and suffering from vivid flashbacks of all the times I’d bumbled my responses throughout the short interview.  I decided to stop at the pop up coffee shop outside and get myself an iced coffee.  I was waiting in line when it happened.

  


Shots rang out across the courtyard.  There was a long moment of stillness where it seemed everyone around me in line froze.  I remember the disconnect in my brain.  I thought maybe a tire had blown out in the street beyond.  It wasn’t until people started running and screaming that my brain finally figured out what was going on: Danger!  Suddenly, I felt myself moving in a sea of humanity.  Everyone rushed in different directions and it wasn’t clear which way led to danger and which to safety.  I had absolutely no thoughts going through my mind except, “Run!”

  


I sprinted, ducked and squeezed between bodies.  My idea was to get to the cover of the building rather than running through the open courtyard toward the street.  I heard the terrifying whiz of bullets flying through the air and flinched involuntarily, cringing into a half crouch as I ran as fast as my short legs would go.  For this reason I didn’t see him coming and ran smack into the Winter Soldier, the infamous assassin with a dead-eyed stare.  Not that I knew anything about him at that point.  Just that he was solid as a rock, absurdly tall and very scary looking.

  


The force of the impact launched me backward flat on my butt.  I sat on the pavement, my palms skinned from trying to brace my fall and my floral skirt hitched up all to hell.  Pain radiated from my tailbone but I didn’t make a sound or a movement.  I was stuck like a frightened woodland creature, staring at the absolutely huge assault rifle clutched in the man’s hands.  His hands...tensed on the weapon...I watched the sunlight glint off the metallic sheen of the left hand clutching the barrel aimed at my chest. 

  


My heart beat so frantically I thought it would burst from my chest.  I felt my breath quicken as I started to hyperventilate.  “P-please!” I said finally flicking my gaze to his eyes. “Don’t hurt me…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Soldier meets his soulmate

“P-please! Don’t hurt me…”

 

The Winter Soldier’s icy gaze melted for a fraction of a second as the words crossed the space between them.  He’d been calculating the exact angle of impact he could use to quickly knock the woman unconscious with the butt of his rifle when she uttered the plea.  The words that even now, in the middle of his mission, burned through his brain, firing his neurons with recognition and overriding his programming.  Suddenly a new priority objective emerged: get her to safety immediately.  With one fluid movement he hitched the rifle into the holster strapped across his back and dove forward, scooping her up and cradling her against his chest.  He turned and sprinted toward the cover of the tower.

 

***

 

I watched the change move across his face as he holstered his weapon and cringed when he leaned over me.  In a matter of seconds--well before my body had time to even think about reacting-- he lifted me into his arms and ran off toward the Avengers Tower.  In my stupefied state I could do little more than duck my head toward his shoulder for cover and emit a squeaking little cry that I can only equate with the dying wail of a prairie dog.  My one clear thought was how flattering it felt to be lifted as if I weighed nothing...especially considering the extra jelly donut I’d treated myself with that morning.

 

See, this is why I’m not the best girl for emergency situations.  I should have been wondering if this sudden turn events meant that I was being rescued or kidnapped.  But my mind goes blank in these moments of urgency.  I was along for the ride.  He sprinted through the now empty lobby and burst through a fire door leading to an industrial back corridor--equally deserted.  Finding an inset corner he finally placed me down, his gentle manner at war with the heavy duty body armor, tactical gear, battle paint and metallic arm.  He placed himself between me and the exit and placed his hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes.

 

“You’re safe now,” he said.

 

Oh.  Drat.

 

And with that he abruptly turned on his heel and abandoned me, sprinting back out the way we’d come and, presumably, back into the fray.  I stood there, clutching my purse to my chest in a white-knuckled grip and staring with intensity at the spot where he’d disappeared through the door.  I didn’t move.  I could hardly breathe.  After a few seconds I felt my knees start to shake and slowly buckle.  I slid down the wall and sat, my legs curled beneath me.  My eyes never straying from the door.  

 

It seemed like forever before they finally found me.  But, considering the level of security I’d had to clear just to interview as a secretary that morning, something told me it wasn’t more than ten minutes.  Men in black tactical outfits approached me slowly, cautiously.  As if they expected some danger.  I sat and stared at them owlishly, still semi-frozen and lacking my words.  Eventually they seemed to realize that I wasn’t a threat and that I was very close to falling out of consciousness completely.  They helped me to my feet, murmuring responses to the voices crackling through their ear pieces.  And then I did faint.

 

***

 

I woke to a feeling of well being.  I was tucked into a hospital bed and someone had put those comfy hospital socks on my feet that made me feel like a baby tucked into a crib and completely separated from anything approaching adult responsibility.  Then I opened my eyes.  There was a very angry looking man with an eye patch sitting in a chair across the room and staring at me.  To be fair...I don’t think he was that angry.  I got the feeling that was just his resting face.

 

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Nicholas Fury, what’s your name?”

 

It took me a beat to remember and another before I could answer, “Sophie.”

 

I glanced around the room.  It looked like a normal hospital room, but with a futuristic edge.  Like I was in a hospital room on the Starship Enterprise. Nice.

 

“You’re in the medical ward of Avengers Tower.  Yeah, they’ve got everything.  They never have to leave the building if they don’t want to.  Well, except to save the world occasionally.  They’ve even got a little food court on the eleventh floor with shawarma--just for Thor.”

 

“Oh.”  I was still pretty dazed and wasn’t really following what this man was saying.

 

He fell silent for a moment, simply watching me with an assessing eye. “So, how do you know him?”

 

“I--”  I didn’t even know his name.  “We just met....what happened? Where is he?”

 

“I was hoping you could tell me.  You seemed to know each other quite well.  He saved you from the fire fight.”

 

My head was starting to ache.  I closed my eyes, turning my face into the pillow with a pained groan.  

 

“He said...the words.  He said them…” I mumbled, suddenly overcome with fatigue.

 

Fury sat forward in his chair demanding my attention, “What did he say?”

I settled into my pillow once more and drew my right arm out from under the thin blanket covering me.  I turned my wrist stroking my hand over the words printed there.

 

“My words,” I explained.  

 

I saw the flare of realization light within him.

 

“Well...shit.”

 

***

“Report,” the cold Russian voice ordered over the phone.  The soldier sat stiffly in the back seat of a bullet proof SUV, flanked by handlers and holding the satellite phone awkwardly against his ear.  He spoke in clipped Russian, reporting the mission status, including the irregularity of the girl.  Long moments of silence hung in the air when he’d finished.

  
“New mission,” the voice responded.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for your kind comments! I just have to be constantly praised throughout my whole life and then I'll be okay...
> 
> If you're interested in getting in touch on Tumblr I can be found at a garbage heap blog @chelsdub. Just be ready for a mess.
> 
> Things are starting to come together...

I trudged through the door of my apartment feeling like my feet were made of lead.  I was exhausted, confused, and emotionally wrung out.  This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.  When you met your soulmate you were supposed to fall into each other’s arms, laughing, crying with the relief of finally finding one another.  This was just...awful.  I’d met my soulmate and lost him all in the span of ten minutes.  I could feel the spark, the stirring of our nascent soul bond fluttering in my chest.  But without being near each other the bond would fade and die.   

 

I’d spent a day and a half as a “guest” of S.H.I.E.L.D. in the Avengers facility.  That morning I’d been medically cleared by one of the registered nurses on staff and was promptly shuffled into a glorified interrogation chamber where I spent hours answering questions about the previous day’s incident, the exact words spoken between us and the details of my life up to this point.  I sat in an uncomfortable chair, in a dimly lit room for hours while agents regularly shuffled in and out often repeating the same questions over and over.  After about an hour of this I became defensive and demanded to know why I was being treated like a criminal.  By the end I had given up, replying to their queries in a dull monotone until they finally released me.  They packed me into a nondescript sedan and drove me to my apartment building.

 

I collapsed onto my living room couch, mustering just enough energy to pull my fuzzy throw blanket over my body before passing out.

***

 

The agent dispatched to watch the girl’s apartment stood in the hallway dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt.  A tool box sat at his feet, he twisted a screwdriver through his fingers and waited, feigning interest in a broken light fixture whenever someone stepped out of the stairwell.  He knelt to quietly rummaging through the tool box, checking the ammo on the glock he had stashed inside.  He was crouched with his back facing the wall and still the assassin got the jump on him.  Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, slid out of the stairwell without a sound.  He barely even cast a shadow as he stalked toward the SHIELD agent.  The scuffle that followed was almost totally silent.  The end result was the agent’s unconscious body hastily stuffed into an unlocked supply closet.  

 

The assassin turned and stalked toward the door of Sophie’s apartment.  She’d decorated it with a floral wreath, the cheery shades of orange and pink at odds with the soldier’s black tactical gear.  The metal digits of his left hand flexed on the door knob releasing the lock with a jarring crack.  He stepped inside.

 

The apartment was small, made even tinier by the placement of book shelves along the walls of the living room.  The shelves were stuffed to overflowing with books, magazines and various sundry items that had no other home.  The soldier’s shaggy dark hair nearly brushed the ceiling, his hulking form seeming to fill the small space.  He tensed, flexing the muscles in his arms and evaluating the space for potential enemies and escape routes.  Even his face seemed tense, eyes narrowed and lips slightly parted.  In a matter of seconds he had mentally evaluated and cleared the space.  He stepped further into the living room and regarded the sleeping form of the woman whose mark was imprinted into his flesh.

 

She slept on her stomach, one arm and leg dangling off the side of the floral print couch, a purple blanket tucked haphazardly around her.  Evidently she had slept soundly through the break in, a mark of her extreme exhaustion.  It had been only a few hours since S.H.I.E.L.D. had finally released her.  The soldier was considering the likelihood that she would sleep through an extraction when he felt the sudden flare of recognition in his chest.  She must have felt the same for she began to stir, curling her limbs inward, releasing a mammoth yawn and opening her eyes.  

 

***

 

Again the prairie dog squeak.  I woke to a feeling in my chest as if my torso were being tugged forward.  When I opened my eyes to see him standing there in my living room I jumped about a mile, emitting the high pitched sound.  I was apparently capable of very little language around him.  I simply lay there, curled on my side, the fuzzy purple blanket clutched in my hands.  He was still dressed for battle.  I counted four different lethal weapons strapped to his body and that was just what was visible to my untrained eyes.  I felt the warmth of our bond blooming even my chest even as my anxiety stirred in my stomach.  I was in no way convinced about the nature of his intentions.

 

I scooted into a half sitting position and finally spoke, “Hi.”

 

Smooth.

 

He didn’t respond, which did wonders for my anxiety.  I watched as his thoughts flashed across his face.  Finally he relaxed his stance a bit and actually sat down on the edge of the couch beside me.  I sucked in a breath, almost overwhelmed by his physical presence.  He was so...big.  And stern.

 

“You’re going to come with me,” he said.

 

“Oh um…” I trailed off.  My eyes flicked beyond his face to take in my front door leaning awkwardly ajar, the door knob hanging askew.  I was in so far over my head.  “Actually, um, we should probably get to know each other, right?  A few of my friends have already met their mates and they all say it can be awkward at first…”

 

He let out a scornful breath.  I didn’t even know breath could  _ be _ scornful!  He seemed to be struggling with his words, like he wasn’t used to having a back-and-forth conversation.

 

“You’re going to come with me,” he repeated before adding. “You’re...not safe here.”

 

With that he leaned forward to take hold of me, apparently considering the discussion over.  I tensed up and curled further into a ball.  I could feel the confusion and aggravation rolling off of him--our bond already growing in just the few moments we’d been together.  I wondered if he could feel my fear.  Apparently, yes.  He startled back as if scorched by the air between us.

 

“I’m not safe here?” I asked.  “You’re the one who broke down my door while I was sleeping!”

 

Again with the stern silence.  Finally, “You’re...mine.  They’ll try to take you away and keep you from me.”

 

I shuddered.  Even after so short a time I didn’t like the idea of being kept apart.  Despite my fear and anxiety I felt the bloom of affection coming through our bond.  This was so weird.

 

“Who? S.H.I.E.L.D?”

 

He nodded.  He seemed about to speak again when his head suddenly cocked to the side.  His eyes narrowed and he unclipped a pistol from the holster on his belt.  “We have to go now!”

  
He dove forward and threw me over his shoulder.  This was getting ridiculous.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a wait on this one, sorry for that! Very busy with work and dog rescue stuff. Hope you enjoy! Eternal gratitude to everyone who commented and left kudos! <3 <3

The Winter Soldier leaped nimbly down the fire escape, his arm clamped firmly around the girl’s legs, securing her over his shoulder.  He heard her let out little huffs of breath with each bump along the way and felt her hands desperately clutching the back of his jacket for security.

 

“Hey! You...oh, god, I don’t even know your name!  You can’t just haul me off wherever you please.  I’m a person!” she was shouting into his back but he ignored her, hitting the pavement of the alley behind the apartment building and sprinting to the nondescript sedan parked inside it’s entrance.  She caught sight of the car as he swung her forward, opened the rear driver’s side seat and moving to stuff her inside.  “Oh, no you don’t!” she struggled against him rather pathetically.  The soldier felt a flare of aggravation and his instincts were screaming at him to incapacitate her.  But the very thought of trying to hurt her sent a strike of pain through his chest and he ignored the instinct.  It only took a few extra seconds to stuff her inside without violence and slam the door shut.  Kind of like stuffing a prank snake back inside the peanut jar.  

 

Huh...where had that come from?  The soldier shook his head in aggravation as if shooing an annoying fly before sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.  He carefully pulled the car out of the alley and accelerated down the street.  He heard the girl huffing and puffing in the back seat and glanced at her in the rear view mirror.  She buckled her seatbelt and folded her arms across her chest in an obvious defensive stance, turning her head to stare out the window and pointedly avoiding his gaze.  He pointed his eyes back to the road and after a moment heard the tiniest sniffle from the back seat.  His blood froze in his veins.  Was she…?  The Winter Soldier was not programmed to comfort damsels in distress.  And the tiny secret self that still lived inside his head was horrified to contemplate that he’d made his soulmate cry.

 

***

 

I sat in the back seat of the car, clutching my arms over my chest and trying to suppress the burning edge of tears that threatened to cap off this exceptionally horrid couple of days.  I couldn’t stop the tiny sniffle and noticed that the man’s shoulders seemed to stiffen at the sound.  I felt a constricting in my chest and the brush of his emotions against mine.   _ Guilt _ .  Well...good.

 

“Where are we going?” I asked.  He ignored me, instead removing a slim phone from side pocket of his cargo pants and making a call.  I tried to burn laser vision holes through the back of his head while he waited for whoever he was calling to pick up.

 

Finally he spoke, “Target acquired….yes.”  He hung up.

 

Excuse me?!  “Um...did you just say ‘target acquired’?  Referring to me?  I’m a target?”

 

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror again.  “You are...my soulmate.”

 

“Yes...I am!” I said with some indignation. “Why did you call me a target? Who were you talking to?  Where are you taking me?”

 

I watched as his face tensed in annoyance.  Apparently he wasn’t used to people questioning him.  Well...get used to it bud, I’m your true love.  I felt humiliation as the tears I’d been trying to suppress suddenly spilled over.  It was just too much.  I’d been caught up in a gun fight, interrogated, and kidnapped by a man who was supposed to be my soulmate.  I fell against my seat and sobbed angrily.

 

“You’re-you’re supposed to be a hero!  That’s what the words mean, don’t they? You’re supposed to save me not kidnap me!”

 

His gloved hands tightened on the steering wheel and I felt the car accelerate even faster.

 

***

 

“You will present the target to your handlers at base 7-9, confirm.”

 

“...Yes.”

 

_ Base 7-9 _ .  The Winter Soldier knew that location.  He’d delivered many targets there for Hydra over the years.  Located outside of D.C. it would be about a 5 hour drive.  It was...a conditioning facility.  A place they took valuable assets to break their will and place them under Hydra’s control.  He’d personally assisted in...converting assets to Hydra.  It was never a pleasant process.  While the girl broke down in the back seat the soldier sat in silence, but inside he was experiencing a fury of pain and emotion.  He wasn’t made for this.  He wasn’t supposed to feel.  But the bond with this girl wouldn’t allow his programming to suppress his feelings as usual.  Instead his programming raged against the sudden tumult inside him.  He felt like his head would explode but he continued driving.  He needed...to think.  He needed time to think.

 

He drove through the city streets until they made it to the city limits, finally getting on the highway for a few miles before stopping at the first available motel.  When he’d neglected to respond to her hysterics the girl had settled down in the back seat.  But he could still hear the ragged edge of her breathing indicating that she was crying and trying to be quiet about it.  Again he felt the sour taste of guilt in his mouth.  His life was suddenly more complicated than it had ever been.  He pulled off the highway, parking the car at the very rear of the parking lot and killing the ignition.  He took out his phone again and tapped at the screen.

 

_ Message: Stopping for the night.  ETA: 1300 _

 

A response appeared almost immediately.

 

_ Message: Negative.  Proceed directly to 7-9.  Confirm. _

 

The soldier stared at the screen for several seconds.  The fingers of his metal hand tightening around the phone.  The muscles in his back and shoulders went rigid with stress.  When he felt the feather light touch of the girl’s finger tips brush his arm he very nearly startled.  He turned his face slightly.  Sophie had slid forward in the back seat and was leaning into the space between the front driver and passenger seats.  She stared up at him, locking eyes.  He took in her face, red from crying, her blue eyes appearing glassy and tired.  She stared at him with a sad kind of hope.  It made him feel...awful.  She didn’t speak, just looked at him.

 

The soldier cleared his throat, “We’re stopping for the night.”  He powered down the cell phone and returned it to his pocket.

 

Sophie glanced at the glowing sign for the motel and let out a shaky breath, “Okay.  On our way to...where?”

 

“Let’s get inside first.”  He opened his door and shifted in his seat to get out of the car.  

 

“Wait,”  she hadn’t moved from her position, “what is your name?  You’re my soul mate and I don’t even know your name.”

 

The soldier sat there for a long time, his brows clenched in confusion.  “I...I don’t have one.”

 

“What do you mean you don’t have one?  Everyone has a name.”

  
“Not me. Let’s go.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what's wrong with me...but I really enjoyed writing this chapter.

The next morning, SHIELD HQ, Washington D.C.

 

Director Fury sat behind a desk, fingers steepled, watching as Steve Rogers absorbed the information on the tablet in his hands.  Natasha Romanoff sat beside the Captain, glancing at the screen over his shoulder, face impassive as always.  

 

Steve’s brows knit together in confusion,  “I don’t understand what I’m seeing here.  This is…”

 

“James Buchanon Barnes,” Fury finished the sentence.  “Alive and apparently untouched by time, if nothing else.”

 

“But how?”  Steve looked even more like a golden retriever puppy than usual as he sat there in confusion and sorrow, his eyes shining with the sting of unspent tears.

 

Fury sucked in a short breath, “The short answer is...science.  SHIELD has kept files on the assassin known as the Winter Soldier for about sixty years.  Many good agents have died trying to gather intel on him.  A lot of people in the intelligence community think he’s a ghost.  Well, I can assure you, as can Ms. Sophie Reynolds, he is most definitely flesh and blood...and metal.”

 

Natasha spoke up, “The girl, where does she fit in?”

 

The images on the tablet showed grainy surveillance footage of James Barnes, the Winter Soldier, exiting an apartment building via a fire escape with a woman thrown over his shoulder.  

 

Fury looked uncomfortable for the first time, “She was a mistake.  We never should have let her leave the Tower, even with a tail.  They met two days ago....she’s his soulmate.”

 

“WHAT?” Steve almost shouted.  “He...Bucky’s soulmate?  But he never had a mark…”

 

Steve’s words drifted off as he realized the reality of the situation.  Natasha spoke, picking up the thin file on Sophie Reynolds, “Well, no, he wouldn’t have.  Says she was born in 1987.”

 

“That’s right,” Fury responded, “and she was our best bet at a capture until he made off with her in the middle of the night.  Cap, you’re the closest thing we have to a connection to this guy, where would he take her?”

 

Steve Rogers shook his head.  He didn’t have the answer.  The Bucky he knew wouldn’t kidnap a young woman out of her home.  Or murder intelligence agents.  Or launch an assault against SHIELD in the middle of downtown Manhattan.  He didn’t know this person at all.

 

Natasha glanced between Steve and Fury before speaking up, “I have some ideas.”

 

***

 

Sophie was awake and pretending to be asleep.  She’d conked out almost as soon as they’d entered the hotel room last night and hadn’t had a chance to reflect on...everything.  But one thing was becoming very clear to her: she could not trust this man.  She could *feel* that he was close.   _ God, this soul bond thing is weird.  Also the whole not having a name to call my new soulmate, weird as well.   _

 

She kept her eyes carefully closed and tried to regulate her breathing as thoughts crashed through her head.   _ So, the number one rule about this kind of situation was that you were NOT supposed to allow your kidnapper to take you to a second location.  So, obviously failed on that.  But I know where I am.  So the big thing now will be to absolutely under no circumstances allow him to take me wherever the hell he thinks we’re going. _

 

She felt a stab of guilt thinking these things.  Her rational self was screaming at her to escape this crazy person.  But her very soul was singing out that he was the missing piece she’d searched for and he would never harm her and they should just hurry up with the whole happily ever after thing.  She felt the urge to cry again but she didn’t have it in her.  Why would she be fated for someone who treated her this way?

 

“Get up, we’re leaving.”

 

_ How romantic, I feel like Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice.  The beginning part where Darcy is still an asshole. _

 

Sophie stretched her limbs under the thin hotel blanket and cracked her eyes open.  The man was sitting in the same chair he’d sat in when they arrived last night.  

 

“Did you sleep?” she asked incredulously.

 

He narrowed his eyes at her and grumbled, “We’re on a time schedule, let’s go.”

 

She took a deep breath before responding.  She felt a little ridiculous having this standoff with him while laying in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin.  “No.  I can’t go with you!”

 

There was a long moment of cold silence.  Sophie felt her stomach drop and for the first time since they’d met, she felt truly afraid of him.  Up until this moment the warm blossom of their soul bond had been a continual comfort.  But when she’d directly refused to go along with his orders she felt the bond constrict, almost as if it was shrinking in her chest.  It hurt.  

 

The man, her soulmate, stood up and slowly stalked to her bedside using all his height to loom over her.  His face looked like a thunderstorm.  

 

“Get. Up. Now.” He ripped the blanket away from her and pulled her out of bed by her arm, wrenching it painfully.  She felt the skin pinch where his metal fingers met.

 

“Ouch! Stop it, let go of me!  Please!”  He dropped his arm abruptly away from her as if he’d been scalded by the contact.  She staggered several steps away from him, backing into a corner in fright.  She felt the aching constriction in her chest ease a little and the twang of his emotions just barely reaching through.  She watched him standing still in the middle of the room, chest heaving, staring down at his own hand as if it were a foreign object.  

 

He turned toward her without meeting her eyes, “I’m...get ready we’re leaving in five minutes.”

 

With that he turned and started to re-equip himself with the dozen or so weapons he’d apparently been categorizing, or cleaning, or whatever you do with weapons, while she’d slept.  They were arrayed on the small kitchenette table.  Knives, guns...grenades?  Sophie was in way, way...way over her head.  She cursed herself for ignoring the grave warnings her SHIELD interrogators had given her about this man.  She’d been so blinded by the newly formed bond.  

 

A minute passed with Sophie staring, mesmerized, at the astonishing assortment of weaponry this man apparently found necessary to bring along on a trip to visit his soulmate.  She spoke, her voice coming out thin and small, “I can’t go with you.  I won’t.”

 

He straightened his back and sighed.  “What did they tell you about me?  When they interrogated you?”

 

She spoke to his back, “You’re...a spy or something.”

 

“Wrong,” he said turning to face her, “I’m not a spy.  I’m a weapon.  I’ve been trained to do one thing very, very well.  I hurt people.  Most of the time I cross them off entirely.  I...I don’t want to hurt you.  But it won’t be difficult for me to subdue one small, weak girl who’s being  _ stupidly _ defiant.  Time’s up.  Let’s go.”

 

_ Ouch.  _ When Sophie was a little girl she imagined her soul mate as this knight in shining armor character.  He would save her from some nondescript danger and carry her in his arms to safety.  Never, ever had she imagined that her soulmate--the one person in the whole world who was meant to love her unconditionally--could be so...mean.  She felt  _ stricken _ .  Her face contorted in pain but still...she had to resist.  

 

There was nowhere for her to run to.  He stood between her and the door.  She was literally backed into a corner.  But she was also feeling increasingly desperate.  The adrenaline of last night was gone and now all that was left was the cold, plain observation that this man did *not* have her interests at heart.  He was clearly following orders to bring her some place.  And she would bet her last dollar it was some place...unpleasant.  Sophie had never been in a fight in her life.  Never even taken a kickboxing or self defense class.  So...she fled.  Or tried to.

 

It was almost comically pathetic how quickly the man responded to her attempt to dart out around him.  He simply put out his arm to block her.  He was so solid she would have fallen right over if he hadn’t caught her.  As soon as his arms closed around her she began to struggle, screeching, scratching, hitting and bucking.  The only good it did was to at least assure Sophie that she was doing her damnedest to fight him.  It just wasn’t enough.  By a lot.

 

When she’d exhausted herself she fell limp in his hold and, again, started to cry.  He tightened his hold on her and growled, “Are you going to walk out of this hotel room with me or do I need to incapacitate you?”

 

Even were Sophie in a calm state of mind she wouldn’t have known how to respond to such a question.  Instead she let out a keening sort of wail and slumped over, trying to move as far away from him as his grip would allow.  Slowly, he let her go and stood as she sagged onto the floor.  She heard a metal clicking noise before she felt him take hold of her wrist and lock a handcuff around it!  She barely reacted as she watched him attach her to the foot of the bed.  He stood up and walked to the door of the motel room.  When he opened it she could see the sunlight flooding the parking lot outside.  He paused for a second, “I’ll be right back.”

 

_ Oh, good. _

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I can't thank you all enough! So glad you're enjoying the story. This is basically turning into a Winter Soldier AU if you couldn't already tell. I'm really just in it for the angst. <3

The windows of the (clearly stolen) SUV were tinted almost totally black. There was no hope that anyone in a passing car would be able to discern Sophie through the window--so that avenue of seeking help was cut off. Even if she were daring enough to attempt a tuck and roll in the middle of a highway she couldn’t. He’d tied her wrists together with nylon cord and roped them to the headrest in front of her. This not only impeded her from unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door, it also meant that she couldn’t lean back in her seat or lower her arms. So this was her state: arms numb and tingling, head aching from all the crying she’d done, body sore from her brief but intense struggle with the man, and the muscles of her lower back had formed into one giant knot.

And she had to pee.

Awesome.

She squirmed in her seat for the millionth time in a vain attempt to seek comfort in an alternate position. She hadn’t spoken since he’d loaded her into the car almost an hour before, but she couldn’t take it anymore. She wiggled her hands through the gap at the bottom of the headrest so her fingers could nudge the back of his neck. Even now, she felt the tingle ripple through their soul bond when she touched his skin. This is so messed up.

“Hey, um, you. I really wish I could call you a name. Maybe we could pick one?” he continued to glower stormily ahead. “C-can we please stop soon? I have to use the bathroom.”

Maybe politeness was the way to go. If she couldn’t escape him she was going to have to change his mind about whatever mission he was on. She knew that he felt guilty about putting her through all this, she could *feel* it. So, he was conflicted but he didn’t feel like he could disobey orders from whoever it was controlling him. Maybe she could work with this. They had a soul bond after all...she could really lay it on him and go for the guilt factor.

“Please! I’m hungry too. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

There it was. She felt the flair of guilt come through their bond. And something else. He was irritated with himself. Had he seriously forgotten about food?

“You have to feed me, you know. That’s like the care and keeping of soulmates 101. Food. And, you know, being nice to each other…”

He sighed softly. “There’s a rest stop a few miles ahead. Will you make it?”

“Yes!” she squeaked hopefully. She returned to her quest for a more comfortable position, but left her fingers where they were, gently brushing the back of his neck. He hadn’t told her to move them after all.

***

The soldier had never considered what it would be like when he met his soulmate. He’d never had much time to consider anything outside his missions. He had the vaguest memory of the day they’d first discovered the mark. He’d felt...hope? It was the smallest spark but it was there, a seed planted within him all those years ago. Now she was here. But everything was wrong. He tried to think back to what he knew of soulmates and bonds. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, was it? She wasn’t meant to be another mission. She was different, special. He felt the strong desire to protect her and keep her safe. He longed to hold her close to him but the exigencies of the last twelve hours had not allowed it. And now he had her tied up in the back of a stolen vehicle on its way to a Hydra conditioning center. This was all wrong.

When she told him she was hungry he hated himself for not thinking of it last night. He’d taken her from her home when she was clearly already exhausted, driven her out of the city against her will, yelled at her, demeaned her, been physical with her and handcuffed her to a bed. And he’d neglected to consider her most basic human needs.

They pulled into the parking lot of a busy highway rest stop. He parked the car and turned in his seat looking at her with sheepish hesitation. She seemed to read the look on his face. Or maybe she felt it through their bond. He could certainly feel her. She sent him a wave of comforting assurance. 

“I...I won’t try to get away or anything. You don’t have to worry about that.” 

She looked profoundly sad having to say those words. And the soldier felt another stab of self hatred that he had made her feel that he was someone to be escaped. He gave a single nod, took out his dagger and sliced through the cord connecting her wrists to the head rest. She nearly moaned in pained relief as her arms finally fell downward. He reached around the seat and gently unwound the cable from her wrists. He winced as the reddened skin beneath was revealed. He took a moment to rub up and down her arms, stimulating blood flow. The girl sat there, eyes wide as saucers, staring at him. 

He felt awkward as he spoke, “We’ll go inside and get something to eat.”

She gave him the smallest most pitiful smile that quickly fell from her lips. But still, it touched the cold depths of his heart.

***

Inside the lobby of the rest stop Sophie stood awkwardly at the man’s side. It was designed sort of like a mall food court with a few different food stalls lining the wall, a convenience store in one corner and a large bathroom entrance tucked into another corner. She shifted back and forth on her feet a little. He noticed her discomfort and immediately stalked toward the restrooms, his hand gently grasping her elbow. 

“I’ll wait right here,” he indicated the spot immediately outside the ladies room. She nodded and went inside. She could still feel the tumult of his emotions riding through the soul bond. It pained her to feel her soulmate so conflicted. But the pain was justified, after all. This was not how it was supposed to be. She shuffled into the ladies room and made her way to the nearest stall. The bathroom was huge and she didn’t have to wait, thank God.

When she was finished she stood at a long bank of sinks rinsing her hands and staring at herself in the mirror. She looked...not good. She stood there for several minutes, allowing the never-quite-warm-enough water of the tap to run over her hands as she stared ahead. Her mind was blank, as if it’d had enough frantic thinking for one day and had given up. She nearly screamed when a slight redhead, slightly taller than herself slid up behind her and spoke into her ear. 

“Sophie, follow me quietly we’re leaving here. I’m taking you some place safe, understand?”

She locked eyes with the woman in the mirror, clearly weighing her options. Sophie had no idea what she was caught up in and didn’t know for sure that she’d be able to differentiate between help or danger. But something in the woman’s crystalline green eyes conveyed her sincerity and she silently nodded, following her into a supply closet at the back of the bathroom she hadn’t even noticed. As they entered she realized it wasn’t a closet at all, but a service corridor with an exit to the outside. The woman slunk ahead of her, cracked the exit door open and motioned to someone outside. Before she knew what was happening the woman was gone and she was being ushered into yet another nondescript vehicle by a couple of helpful looking men in dark suits. They shut the door behind her and she was alone. The A/C in the car blasted and she shivered against the cool leather upholstery. 

About half a minute after they’d stuck her in the car she heard distant shouts and pops like fireworks...or guns. Then she felt the sickening tug on her soulbond. He was in pain, and panicked. She sensed his worry for her and his fear and confusion. She flew open the car door and burst forward, fully intending to find him and make sure he was okay. The men in suits immediately grabbed her and refused to allow her to leave. 

“Let me go, please!” she shouted. “He needs me! He’s hurt!”

“Calm down, miss. Barnes will be just fine. Orders are to capture not kill.” She realized this dumb dumb had meant to comfort her, but the words capture and kill weren’t really doing it.

She growled furiously and struggled against them but they wouldn’t budge. She could still feel the man’s fear pulsing into her. In desperation she tried to comfort him, sending him waves of affection and peace. But if they got through to him she couldn’t tell. 

She heard a tinny voice coming over a radio, “Suspect in custody. Is Ms. Reynolds accounted for?”

One of the men pulled a walkie talkie from his hip and responded, “We have her, Sir.”

“Alright, everyone proceed to SHIELD HQ, we’ll be right behind you.”

Sophie didn’t have time to consider what was happening as the men herded her back into the freezing cold car. She could only ponder the sudden quiet that had come over her bond mate.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, shit's about to get real. I didn't know this was happening until it happened.

Steve sat in the passenger seat of the prisoner transport vehicle tapping his hands on his knees in obvious anxiety. Every few minutes he’d glance in the rear view mirror to see his best friend bound in the large rear cabin. Bucky sat on the bench seat against the side wall of the vehicle, staring blankly ahead of him. Steve could almost feel the waves of rage coming off him, but the man’s face remained impassive. As the team moved out voices from different units corresponded tersely over the radio. 

It was really not the time to try to break through to him but Steve couldn’t help it. He hated seeing his friend in pain. 

“Bucky?” he asked tentatively. He was twisted around in his seat facing the black clad assassin. 

The man startled and slowly turned his head to the front of the vehicle, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Steve sighed, “It’s you, Bucky. You don’t remember because they’ve...done something to your brain. But you will, I promise.”

Bucky shut down at this response, turning away and resuming his state of aggressive brooding. Steve tried another tact, “Don’t worry about Sophie, okay? She’s safe and you’ll see her again when we get back, I promise.”

Bucky let out a ferocious growl, straining against his bonds, “Where is she!?”

Well, that got a response alright. Steve sputtered into action, anxious to encourage communication. They had a long drive back to D.C. after all. He grabbed for the walkie talkie on the center consul and spoke, “Unit Three, report, can we get Ms. Reynolds on the line? Over.”

Static on the line for a long minute. “Unit three, report,” Steve repeated. When he still got no answer he felt an edge of panic come over him. The shouts from the back seat weren’t helping either.”

“Anyone have eyes on unit three?”

A round of negatives came over the line and now Steve really started to panic.

***

Sophie watched from the back seat of the car as the two dark suits rolled down their windows and tossed their walkie talkies into the brush along the side of the quiet road they were traveling. Not knowing anything about spies or intrigue or any of this she assumed there was some logical reason for this. She was in a state of shock but willing to consider herself properly rescued for the moment. The men had assured her that her soulmate, James Barnes, would not be harmed and that they were on a mission to help him and her. They would meet up again once they got to SHIELD HQ. Sophie was still worried beyond belief, and she could feel the waves of unpleasant emotions coming off of...James...but she tried to calm herself and imagine how things might take a turn for the better now.

Then the men pulled up to another car parked along a dirt road and switched vehicles. That didn’t seem...right. Still, she didn’t know anything about these kinds of operations. Once they’d settled into the new car and started back up the dirt road and toward the main road she spoke, “When will I get to see James? He’s really upset right now I want him to know I’m okay.”

She saw the driver glance to the passenger briefly but neither made any response. “Hello?”

She suddenly felt her stomach dip within her. Oh no. At almost the exact same time she felt a storm of rage coming from James through their bond. Not knowing what else to do she reached out to him through the connection, Help!

Slowly, with her eyes glued to the men in front, she crept her hand toward the door handle. Before she could even try it the man in the passenger seat had twisted around, snatching her hand away and holding it roughly. “How about we give him a call? I’m sure he’d love to hear from you!”

The man sounded manic. Sophie recoiled in her seat as the man pulled out a black cell phone and punched in a phone number. He turned it on speaker and she listened to the shrill ring only once. 

The voice that answered was familiar but she couldn’t place it, “...Yes?”

The man answered, “Hello, Captain. We thought these two little lovebirds might like to talk to each other. It’s so difficult to be apart from one’s soulmate after all.”

Jeez, this guy was really laying it on thick with the whole evil villain routine--how had she not picked up on that before? 

The Captains voice was tinged with barely restrained anger, “What have you done?”

Evil Villain snickered, “Just finishing the asset’s mission for him. Tell your friend he’s going to be punished when he gets back home.”

Sophie was paying rapt attention to this conversation she only half understood. Suddenly she heard the sound of outraged fury in the background on the line. She couldn’t help it, she felt his pain through the bond.

“James!?” she called out. 

The line was quiet for a moment. Villain spoke, “Go on, put him on. Might be a while before they get to speak.”

There was some shuffling and she distinctly heard the Captain’s voice grumbling, “--don’t think it’s such a good idea…”

After a few seconds she heard *his* voice and her heart filled. Was it only this morning she was trying to get away from him? “Sophie? Where are you? What do you see?”

Tears sprang in her eyes, “James? They told me your name is James. Are you okay? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you....”

She started crying in earnest. 

“Sophie,” he said. “I’m coming for you. Be strong.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an in between chapter...getting to the good stuff soon. <3

The van sped down the exit toward the airport. Steve was in full Captain mode, speaking rapidly into his phone. The soldier was braced in the back, head in his hands, overwhelmed by what was happening in his own mind. The moment he heard her small voice, thick with tears, over the phone something inside him broke. The part of him that was the loyal asset, the unquestioning soldier, was broken. Through the cracks in his psyche he caught glimpses of another life. Another young girl crying and an older brother comforting her. A scrawny young kid, beaten to a pulp, who looked amazingly familiar. The shards of memory, if that’s what these were, seeped through the hard edges of his programming and it hurt. His head rang, the piercing daylight coming through the windshield, the jarring swerve of the vehicle as it sped through the airport parking garage, the ringing echoes of another life in his ears, it was all too much! By the time the van stopped he was barely conscious. 

He flinched away from the light as the rear doors opened and Steve Rogers’s concerned face appeared. He climbed inside and squatted in front of the soldier...in front of Bucky.

“Buck? You okay? Come on we have to get out, we’re getting on a plane, we’re going to find her. Do you know who took her?”

“Stevie?” Bucky gasped, looking up at him through the tangled mess of his hair.

Despite the obvious stress of the situation Steve couldn’t suppress his smile, “That’s right, it’s me. Hey, hey...do you know who took her, Buck?”

Bucky swayed in his seat. Steve Rogers’s face blended with another thinner face in his memory. His eyes fluttered as it all became too much. He uttered one word before passing out, “Hydra…”

***

They put her in a cell. That was the only word that would come to mind to describe the dark, cold room where Sophie found herself. There was a door, no windows, and a cot. In one corner of the ceiling she noticed the gleaming eye of a surveillance camera. As soon as they pushed her inside she retreated into the furthest corner from the door and sat with her legs curled protectively in front of her. She gingerly touched her left cheek where Evil Villain had decked her after she’d tried to run away when they’d reached their destination. She sucked in a breath at the tender ache that flared with even the slightest graze of her finger tips. Her lower lip began to quiver uncontrollably.

Ugh, stop crying you baby! She hated how weak she seemed. But this was not something for which life had prepared her. She took a shuddering breath and leaned her forehead against the cool concrete wall. It was insane given everything that had happened, but she couldn’t stop the feeling of guilt, like she had betrayed her soulmate and if she’d trusted him this wouldn’t have happened. She knew that was crazy. Especially considering, from what she’d heard, these seemed to be the people he worked for and so he had probably been taking her here all along. But then why had he told her he was coming to save her? What had changed? Everything was confusing and everything hurt.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there before they came in. It felt like an hour but it could have been minutes. Another bland dark suit entered first, followed by an older man with sandy hair. He was in his shirt sleeves and smiled warmly at her as he entered. He looked like a dad.

“Sophie,” he stated, sitting down on the edge of her cot. She cringed deeper into her corner. “I apologize for this welcome, I know you must be very tired and frightened.”

She said nothing, staring at a point on the bare cot in front of her.

“Eventually I think you’ll find a place here for yourself. Once you comply. But,” he paused reaching forward and grasping her knee, squeezing gently, “before that can happen we need you to send a little message to our asset.”

She looked up at him for the first time. He looked so wholesome, but something in his eyes caused a shiver to creep over her shoulders. She spoke, “What message?”

He took a deep breath, standing and adjusting his tie, “It’s time to come home.”

***

Bucky woke suddenly. He was strapped across several jump seats in a military plane. He jolted up and began fumbling with the buckles holding him down. His breath came rapidly and he felt his heart thundering in his chest. 

“Here, let me help,” the redhead from the rest stop crouched beside him and deftly opened the buckles. Bucky sat up, staring. Her face was familiar but his thoughts and memories were all still jumbled together. 

“Yeah,” the woman said in a knowing tone. “I know.”

“Hey!” Steve appeared from somewhere at the front of the plane. He shot a nervous glance at the redhead when he noticed Bucky sitting up, restraint free. He stood frozen a few feet away, as if he were afraid to spook him.

Bucky sighed, “It’s okay, Steve. I’m...me.”  
A long pause, “And who were you before? When you were trying to kill me? When you murdered people? When you kidnapped Sophie?”

“I…” Bucky didn’t have any words to respond. He felt his face crumple at the memories; the decades of darkness; the things he’d said and done to that girl since they’d met.

“Enough, Steve. We’ll have a nice long debrief once we have the girl,” the redhead said. “Barnes. I’m Natasha. Where is she?”

 

He told them. They didn’t have time to address Steve’s disbelief over the continued existence of Hydra. He gave them the coordinates and they routed the plane for Hydra Base 7-9. It would take only minutes to get there. Only minutes to come up with a plan. They started rapidly strategizing a plan of attack but Bucky suddenly fell forward, collapsing against the floor of the plane in obvious pain. The growling scream wrenched from his lungs filled the cabin. 

Hydra’s message had been delivered.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Reunited and it feels so good. This is another rough chapter for Sophie. But no more violence after this. Just angst. Lots of angst.

Sophie was left alone in her cell again, but not for long.  A man who introduced himself as Brock entered next.  He walked inside the cell, sealed the door shut and turned to the cowering girl with a wicked gleam in his eyes.  He was tall and muscular and his menacing presence was overpowering.  He wasn’t as big as James, but even when James had threatened her and restrained her he’d never shown any pleasure in his actions.  Sophie knew just by looking at this man that he enjoyed inflicting pain.

He began to give a detailed explanation of what was about to happen.  Sophie stared up at him only half absorbing his words.  The man obviously enjoyed this part, the lead up to pain, as much as the pain itself.  

“...Soul bonds are a funny thing,” he continued. “Hydra has active field agents cut off their bonds.  For security purposes.  A man with a soul bond is vulnerable.  If the enemy gets a hold of his mate they can make him do anything.  He’s putty in their hands.  That’s what we’re going to do with you, Sophie.  You’re going to call back our bad little puppy.  Help him remember where his loyalties lie.  And then...well, I wouldn’t be surprised if they decided against keeping you on.  You’ve already proven to be...disruptive to the asset’s programming.”

“Stop,” she whispered.  Her mouth had gone dry, she licked her lips and tried again. “Stop calling him that.  He’s not an asset.”

Brock smirked but said nothing.  He simply walked forward grabbed her off the cot by her arm and delivered a savage punch to her gut.  All of the air went out of Sophie’s lungs and she bent over, wheezing.  Before she could recover he had delivered two more blows to her stomach.  Sophie had never been hit in her life.  She dangled from his grip, hunched over as far as he would allow.  With a violent lurch she expelled the meager contents of her stomach all over his shirt.  

Brock grunted in disgust and pushed her back onto the cot, ripping the black t-shirt over his head and muttering, “Pathetic.”

Sophie moaned from her spot on the cot.  She curled her limbs inward and lay on her side, half dazed and unaware of anything beyond the pain in her stomach.  She heard Brock’s voice distantly, as if he were speaking to her from the end of a tunnel.

“Get. Up.”  When she made no move to stand he lifted her bodily off the cot and dropped her on the hard cement floor.  Sophie felt a blinding snap of pain from her tail bone as she landed.  Then he started to kick the soft flesh of her sides and it was all she could do to curl up in a ball again.

***

They landed in an open field about a mile from the target.  Steve reached out a hand and touched Bucky’s shoulder.  The man flinched violently.

“Buck? What’s happening, are you going to be able to do this?”

He’d doubled up in pain again, but he was getting better at withstanding the onslaught coming through the bond.  

He spoke through gritted teeth, “They’re. Hurting. Her.  Let’s move.”

The plan was a little hairbrained.  Steve and Natasha would hold back, taking cover and waiting for the signal from Bucky that he’d secured the girl.  Bucky would go in as the Winter Soldier and once he’d gotten to Sophie he’d take out whoever he could and get the hell out of there with Steve and Natasha coming in as back up once his cover was blown.  They were counting on Hydra overestimating the resilience of the Winter Soldier’s programming.  He didn’t know if it would work.  He didn’t know if he could keep his rage chained long enough to reach her.  But he had to try.

They moved out.  7-9 was in the middle of a state forest.  When they reached the edge of the compound Steve and Natasha stayed back in the tree line. Bucky moved forward, keeping his strides purposeful and his face carefully blank.  He was almost immediately met by a pair of guards.  

“Asset Winter Soldier, reporting,” he spoke in a careful monotone, trying to suppress any emotion.

He was escorted inside the main building.  The compound looked like a generic office park.  Nothing of its exterior betrayed the horror within.  But as soon as he crossed the threshold Bucky felt a chill in his stomach.  He remembered this place and all the pain that had been dealt within these walls.  Another flare of pain ripped through the soul bond and Bucky just barely masked his reaction.  He tightened the fingers of his metal hand into a fist and proceeded through the entry into a labyrinth of corridors. They’d been walking for several minutes, descending a series of stairs until Bucky was sure they were below ground.  He knew by rote memory that he was being led to his commander’s office.  The man who issued the Winter Soldier’s orders.   He could see the face hovering in his mind’s eye, but the name remained stubborning beneath the surface.  He was prepared for the confrontation and whatever punishment the man felt necessary.  The asset had not completed his mission.  Worse, he had directly ignored explicit orders.  He could take whatever pain they wished to inflict upon him as long as he found a way to Sophie.  He just needed to know where she was.  He could tell she was close now; the bond felt stronger.  But he needed an exact location.

The guards escorting him barely needed to direct him, he knew the way despite the foggy nature of his memories.  Suddenly he found himself in front of the door.  It loomed larger than life in front of him painted a dark, forbidding gray.  A guard knocked and they were called inside.

_ Alexander Pierce _ .  The man sat behind his desk with an infuriating smile on his face.  He remembered this and he hated it, the mock welcome, the false sense of camaraderie.  At least the Russians had been open in the face of their own brutality.  This man wanted to cover his up with a false persona.

“Welcome home, soldier,” he said, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk.  

Bucky moved forward but elected to stand.  He spoke carefully, “Reporting for...punishment, sir.”

Pierce chuckled, “Very good.  You’ve been very unstable.  Your programming couldn’t withstand the...trauma of meeting your mate.  That was our fault.  We had years to prepare you and we failed.  But don’t worry...we’re nothing if not persistent.”

So he wanted to experiment further with his programming.  Risky.  It had taken years for Hydra to make him into their perfect Winter Soldier.  Small upgrades had been made to his programming periodically ever since.  But overhauling it in the way he seemed to be implying was an aberration.  No matter, he wouldn’t give them the chance.  Still, this gave him an opening.  They acknowledged that the soulbond had compromised his programming.  He could push for information and they would assume it was a side effect rather than an outright program failure.

Yes, sir,” he said.  “May I…”

He stopped as if struggling to articulate a question.  Pierce gestured for him to go on.

"May I...see her, sir?  Before…?”

Pierce looked amused.  His arrogance was amazing.  He didn’t even entertain the idea that the Winter Soldier, the program first imprinted onto his brain decades ago, might have been perilously compromised.  Bucky could still feel him--the cold killer--inside.  But the soldier didn’t have the controls anymore.  He hadn’t been truly in control since before he’d met Sophie.

“Huh,” Pierce sighed. “She did a number on you, didn’t she?  We have a lot of work ahead of his, soldier.”

“Yes, sir.  I’m ready to comply.  Just…I can feel her.”

He huffed in amusement again.  This man was enraging.  Bucky flexed the muscles in his arms in annoyance but otherwise remained stoic.

“Well, come with me then, soldier.  Let’s go find your girl.”

***

Sophie threw up two more times after Brock’s onslaught began in earnest.  By the third time she didn’t have anything left and she was simply dry heaving in a corner.  Brock took a break, reclining on the cot and watching her with lazy eyes.  Sophie was studiously avoiding his gaze when the door to her cell opened.  She tensed up instinctively expecting another attack.  The older man who first greeted her entered first.  Close behind him she saw… James!

His posture was rigid.  He stepped into the room and looked her over, assessing her state she assumed.  He didn’t look much worse for the huge battle he’d waged at the rest stop.  She imagined her condition was much more alarming.  He locked eyes with her.  His face was a study in blankness but she felt the compassion and misery emanating from him through their connection. Tears sprang up in the corners of her eyes and she wanted to run to him and wrap herself in the safety of his arms.  But she didn’t have the strength and the two other men present were watching her like a hawk.  A tense moment passed.

“Brock,” the older man spoke, “why don’t we leave--”

He was cut off when, faster than she could have imagined possible, James swung his arm out, sinking his elbow into the man’s face with a sickening crunch.  Brock was on his feet in an instant, but not fast enough to avoid the shove of James’s boot against his chest.  Brock hit the wall and James fell on top of him, smashing the man’s head into the hard wall.  Two guards from outside immediately rushed in.  Each of them brandishing batons that crackled with electricity.  One of them rushed forward, striking James’s left shoulder with the baton.  His muscles spasmed against the attack but he quickly grabbed the man by the neck and threw him into the far wall.  The guard collapsed in a lifeless heap.  James went for the remaining guard next, swinging his fist into the man’s jaw before spinning him around and capturing him in a choke hold.  The man was unconscious in seconds.  It was over in under a minute. James spoke into a concealed mic at his wrist, “Target--” he stopped himself and swore under his breath.  “I have Sophie.  Let’s go.”

He strode over to her and bent down to help her up, placing his hands gingerly under her arms, obviously trying not to hurt her.  But everything hurt.  Sophie groaned and nearly fell over again.  She leaned against him and panted, “I can’t--I can’t walk.”

The room spun in dizzying rings and she nearly vomited again.  Only James’s solid form at her side steadied her.  When the spinning had calmed down she looked at him and saw the obvious desperation on his face.   _ Shit _ , Sophie realized the problem.  He was going to have to fight his way out and how could he do that if she could barely stand?  Carrying her firefighter style was *not* an option.  Sophie was pretty sure she had internal bleeding in her stomach.  She looked around the room as if the solution could be found hiding under the cot.  

James broke into her frantic thoughts, “Can you...do you think you could hold on if I carried you on my back?”

They were obviously losing precious seconds, but he was trying to be considerate.   _ Hell _ , she  _ thought, I’ll figure it out as we go _ .  She nodded her head rapidly.  James knelt down with his back to her and she awkwardly knelt over him, pressing her front against his back and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, trying not to choke him.  She snaked her legs around his hips, holding on for dear life as he stood up.  When was the last time she’d had a piggy back ride?  She was suddenly shaking with giggles.  She felt like a five year old.  This was not how she’d expected this day to go.  But then...nothing had gone as expected ever since she’d met this man.

He turned his head to the side and she could just catch the edge of a smile.  “You alright back there, doll?”

“Fine!” she squeaked.   _ Doll? That’s new.  And nice... _

“Hold on tight, and keep your head down,” with that he strode out of the room and started silently trotting down the hallway towards the sounds of men fighting.  Sophie hoped this would be the last time she’d hear those sounds in a long, long time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end

Bucky cradled the girl in his arms, resting his cheek against her forehead and whispering into her hair.  He stayed this way clinging to her throughout the plane ride.  The adrenaline of the fight was wearing off and he felt light headed.  His thoughts and memories once again battling within him now that the clarity of battle was over.  His emotions were all over the place.  Guilt.  Fear.  Rage.  Longing.  Affection.  And yet another part of him existed in perfect calm.  The Winter Soldier was still there speaking quietly inside his head,  _ Target is a liability _ .  _ Wipe her out. _

The muscle in Bucky’s jaw twitched as he gnashed his teeth together in abhorrence of those thoughts.  He couldn’t ever hurt this girl again.  He squeezed her tighter against him, rocking her gently and staring intently ahead.  He murmured words into her ear without really knowing what he was saying.

“Hey,” Steve’s nervous voice cut into his thoughts. “You still with me, Buck?”

Steve was watching him silently from across the cabin.  Bucky locked eyes with him and spoke for the first time since they’ed reboarded the plane, “Internal bleeding, fractured ribs, lacerations, deep muscle bruising, low grade fever.”

_ Mission status: ...unknown _ .

“We’re going to Tony’s, Bucky.  He’s a friend, we can trust him.  And it’s the most secure place I know of now.”

“Stark...New York,” he looked back down at the girl in his arms.  A flash of her frightened face the first day they met playing through his thoughts.  

Steve shook his head, clearly worried about his friends rapidly declining communication skills.  “You holdin’ it together, Bucky?”

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath and tucked his face into Sophie’s hair.  The dark blond strands were matted and damp with sweat, but he didn’t care.  It felt like home.

***

He wouldn’t leave her side.  When the doctors in Stark’s medical wing tried to separate them he responded with such a dead-eyed, threatening glare that they were forced to perform emergency surgery with Bucky still latched onto the girl’s hand.  Only when she was stable and resting in a drug induced sleep did he withdraw, and then only to the far corner of her hospital room where he stood watch, glaring down every nurse and doctor who came to check her vitals.

***

The first thing Sophie was aware of when she woke up was the dull feeling of constriction that extended from just below her ribcage to the bottom of her abdomen.  She blinked her eyes open very gradually.  She was in a hospital room.  The lights were turned down low but she felt the glow of the vital monitor by her bedside.  She lifted one hand to find an I.V. attached.  She drifted in and out for a long time, flexing her toes, her arms and legs.  She turned her head from side to side and finally noticed the dark shape looming in one corner of the room.   _ James _ .  He was standing at attention, eyes wide and alert, one hand on his side arm.  Every muscle in his body was tense and he was still streaked with the grime and blood of battle.

Something inside Sophie sank as she watched him.  When he came for her, rescued her from that terrible place, he seemed different.  He spoke to her like a person, held her, called her doll.  Now, now he looked more like he did when he’d been hauling her around that hotel room and ranting about how he was a weapon.  She remembered the moments of fear and pain and struggle that he’d caused her over the last few days.  She couldn’t read his expression and whatever drugs they’d given her were dulling her ability to feel him through the bond.  She was frightened.  But everything hurt and she was tired and didn’t have the energy to think.

“Hi,” she said.

At the sound of her voice something came alive in his eyes and he took a couple tentative steps toward her hospital bed.  He stopped, a confused expression on his face like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

She lifted her hand off the blanket and reached for him, “Please.”

_ It really is the magic word. _  He rushed to her bed side, sinking to his knees and gathering her hand up in both of his, he lowered his forehead to rest on their entwined fingers, as if in prayer

Sophie smiled through the haze of tears suddenly filling her eyes, “James, James, finally...can we...are we...safe now?  Is it over?”

She felt the rush of air leaving his lungs before he lifted his face to look up at her, “You’re safe, Sophie.  I’ll keep you safe.  I promise.”

She sighed, closing her eyes so she could say this without looking at him, “Safe from them and...and safe from you too, right?”

When he didn’t respond right away Sophie opened her eyes to find him staring at their joined hands, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.  She immediately felt terrible.

“I...I don’t mean that I want you to go away.  I never,” she stammered and blushed over the next. “I never want you to leave.  I just mean...no more kidnapping, okay?  And maybe...maybe when I’m better we could like...go on a date or watch Netflix or something normal?”

James kept his eyes fixed on their hands and nodded noncommittally.  She shook her hand a little to grab his attention, “Hey!  You okay?  You’re all grimey.”

He didn’t speak for long, long moments.  It would have been more awkward if Sophie weren’t still extremely tired and feeling whatever pain drugs they’d given her start to wear off.  She breathed steadily and simply watched him.  She hadn’t really had the luxury since they’d met so it was nice.  His hair was dark brown, long enough to tuck behind his ears.   _ Note to self, try that ASAP _ .

Finally he spoke, “Bucky.”

_ Huh _ . “Huh?”

He sat up and let his hands fall away from hers, “His...my...name.  I’m called Bucky.  Nobody calls me James...I don’t think.”

_ Ooookay _ …

Before she could respond the door to the hospital room opened and another man entered.  Bucky stood and turned to face the intruder, his hands fisted at his sides.  The man at the door was dressed in street clothes, a light blue t-shirt and jeans.  But even so he was unmistakable.  Captain America.

_ Captain America _ .

“O-oh!” Sophie exclaimed and her face immediately erupted in flames.  She shuffled upward on her pillow a bit and her hands went to her hair automatically attempting to fix it into something remotely fetching.  “I...oh...you’re, you’re Cap.  You’re Captain America.  Hi.  How are you?”

The blond dream boat smiled good humoredly at her fluster fit and walked closer to her bed.  His eyes shifted from Sophie to Bucky and back.

“Hello Ms. Reynolds.  I hope you’re feeling okay is there anything I can get you?”

_ So polite _ .  Her lips tugged upward into a grin and her heart fluttered a bit.  Which, apparently Bucky felt through their bond because he narrowed his eyes at both of them and scoffed at her starstruck silliness.   _ Oh, please _ .

She laughed slightly before immediately grimacing as the movement tugged at the sutures on her stomach.  Both men looked like they were ready to fight whatever it was that was causing her discomfort.

She sighed, “It’s fine.  Ja--I mean, Bucky.  Don’t you worry you’re still my number one!  But it’s...Captain America!  I had a poster of him over my bed when I was in high school.”

That didn’t seem to console him much but no matter, Sophie’s drugged out brain was starting to work, “Oh….oh, wait.  Captain America...and you’re Bucky? You’re…?”

Bucky turned away without comment so the Cap responded, “Yes, it’s...complicated.  And we’ll try to explain everything once you’re feeling better.  But right now your doctor is about to come in and do a check up and, Bucky?  They’d like to take a look at you too.  Don’t worry, I’ll stay with your girl.”

Sophie watched as Bucky tensed up at the suggestion taking a long moment before nodding sharply and striding out of the room without a backward glance.  Cap watched him leave before turning back to her, sliding over a chair from the against the wall.

“So,” he said teasingly, “tell me more about this poster?”

She was saved by the entrance of a doctor in scrubs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Loves,  
> This chapter was difficult! I was trying to feel out how I wanted to portray Bucky in recovery. I knew that I wanted to preserve the Winter Soldier within him. I didn't just want him to be poof! better. I imagined that as the adrenaline of fighting faded so too would the battle enforced mental clarity and he would, again, be struggling with two raging personalities and many sets of memories inside his head. But the soulbond is this primal thing which drives him to protect Sophie. So that even as his programmed side calculates and dismisses her, his core being is compelled to protect and be near her.  
> My favorite part is Sophie fangirling out over Cap. Because.


	11. Chapter 11

Over the following week Sophie met two more super heroes.  Black Widow came to her hospital room to retrieve Bucky for a “debriefing” and nodded peremptorily at Sophie.  Tony Stark made an overwhelming appearance, arriving with a train of facilities workers behind him, each burdened with alarmingly large floral arrangements.  Steve (yes, Sophie was on first name terms with Captain America now, no big deal) came to visit her every day.  She’d mostly gotten over her star struck giggles although she could still appreciate him as a Very Handsome Man.  The one person missing was Bucky.  After that first day he never came back to her room.  She could feel him distantly through the bond--but only as a presence.  His emotions were shrouded from her.  She was feeling stronger every day but the more her wounds healed, the more she felt the ache in her chest.  

“Where is he, Steve?”  She finally got the nerve to ask Steve about it the day before she was scheduled to bust out of the hospital.  She still wasn’t sure where she went from there, but it had been heavily hinted that they’d like her to remain at Stark Tower rather than return to her apartment.

“He…,” Steve looked panicked.  “He’s still adjusting, Soph.  He’s being monitored.  Tony set him up in a room on my floor but he has to see a psychologist every day.  We don’t think there is a danger that he’ll relapse into his programming but...he’s not quite well either.”

Sophie sighed.  Bucky hadn’t been quite well since they’d met.  After they’d interviewed him and gone through all the information they could find from the leaked Hydra files Steve had told Sophie what he could.  She had only ever known Bucky as the assassin, the secret agent with a dark past.  But the gutted look on Steve’s face was enough to reveal just how much of his best friend had been lost.  Sophie was very aware that Steve left out a lot of details from his explanation.  He told her that Bucky had been a prisoner of war, that Hydra had brainwashed him, somehow erasing his memories and programming him to do what they wanted.  Exactly what they wanted him for wasn’t mentioned, but Sophie had a pretty good idea.  They’d made him into a cold, calculating murderer--the man with the dead eyed stare who’d evaluated her dispassionately when she ran into him during that firefight.

Steve explained that the doctors and scientists who evaluated Bucky still didn’t fully understand why his programming had started to degrade after the soulbond was formed.  Hydra had obviously underestimated its power.  Whatever the reason Sophie could see the gratitude radiating from his gaze.  

“You brought him back, Sophie,” Steve said, tears rimming his eyes. “I don’t like to think what might have happened...what I would have had to do to stop him…”

Sophie smiled gently, “Now you don’t have to worry about that.”  Her smile faded, “I hope.  There’s no chance that he’ll go back is there?  He seemed so...cold when I woke up…”

Steve sighed, “No...we don’t think so.  The doctors say that his brain is healing.  He’s forming new memories and every day he seems to remember a bit more.  A lot of it’s not so good...he’s starting to remember details that help us fighting Hydra but he tends to get pretty depressed when he remembers things about missions.  He’s just not in a good place right now.  We have to give him time.”

Sophie huffed, “Not in a good place?  Neither am I!  I was kidnapped and tortured.  I have nightmares about those men...and about Bucky...I just...it hurts.”  She rubbed her hand over her sternum as if to sooth the strained soulbond, “It hurts and he should be here helping me and he’s not.  I know he needs to heal but so do I and we need each other to do it!”

She hated piling all of this on Steve but he was the only one.  She felt so alone; she  _ was _ alone.  She’d  _ been _ alone for so long but felt it now more than ever.  If her mom were still alive... _ if if if... _ it would be more bearable.  But it was no use going down that road.  Sophie’s mother died right after she graduated from college.  Ovarian cancer.  She didn’t even know she was sick until it was almost the end.  She pushed away the few friends she’d collected at school--couldn’t deal with having to acknowledge her grief to them.  So while they moved onto grad school, got roommates and cheap apartments, she cleaned out her dead mother’s house.  She realized with a depressing certainty that she didn’t even have anyone in her life who would have missed her over the last few days.  

Tears came unbidden to her eyes and wiped them away furiously.  She felt resentful.  She’d waited her whole life for this man to come and save her and love her and now he was purposely keeping himself from her, weakening their bond and causing them both undue pain.

Steve reached out and enveloped both her hands in his.  He made her feel like a little kid, his hands were so huge and warm and comforting.  She sniffled and gave him watery smile.

“I’m sorry, Steve.  You’re like the most noble human ever and you don’t deserve to have to listen to my...woes,” she laughed a little at her own word choice.

Steve smiled back at her, “Soph...Bucky was my best friend.  What kinda guy would I be if I didn’t watch out for his best girl?”

Sophie secretly loved when Steve used his grandpa lingo.  She wondered if Bucky would use it as he got better.  He had called her  _ doll _ …  She shifted around in her bed a little.  

“Steve?” she asked.  “Will you tell me about him?  Bucky?  I mean before...everything.  What was he like?”

“No better guy,” he answered without hesitation.  He looked thoughtful for a moment and then laughed, “I mean he was a total showboat, don’t get me wrong.  Loved the ladies.  And they loved him.  He was always trying to set me up but I wasn’t exactly what they were looking for back then…”

Sophie laughed and hunkered into her blankets listening to Steve’s stories about growing up in Brooklyn with Bucky.  All the fun they got into and the ways that Bucky took care of him through the years.  Steve talked for ages.  After a while he noticed her eyelids drooping and breath starting to even out.  She was getting better but even so, it didn’t take much to wipe her out, she was still healing from some severe injuries.  Steve tucked her blanket more securely beneath her chin and stood up to leave.  He had to go have a conversation with Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading Loves!


	12. Chapter 12

Bucky hadn't strayed from Steve’s floor of the Tower since his arrival except for doctor’s appointments--which he accepted with surprising acquiescence.  Steve had expected resistance from the man who spent so long being mistreated by men and women who called themselves doctors and scientists.  Instead he found that Bucky objected to very little.  He ate, slept, showered, went to his appointments.  Steve had found that he tended to ignore his basic needs until Steve reminded him, but still.  The only thing he’d truly refused was the most confounding: he wouldn’t visit Sophie.  Not after that first day back at the tower.  Each afternoon as Steve prepared to descend to the medical wing he would ask Bucky if he wanted to come see her.  His question was always met with a vicious shake of the soldier’s head and his retreating back as he fled to his bedroom.

Steve would shake his head and tell himself that Bucky just needed time.  But as he made his way back after his most recent visit with the girl he made up his mind.  Steve couldn’t think of anything more caddish than neglecting one’s soulmate, no matter what was going on.  He steeled himself for a stern talk as the elevator doors opened onto his floor.  Bucky was seated at the small kitchen table in the common area, cradling a bowl of cereal in his left hand.  He was getting better about seeing to his own needs, but cooking was a bridge too far.  He glanced up as Steve approached the table.

“Hey,” he said, taking a seat across the table.  Bucky continued shoveling spoonfuls of corn flakes into his mouth. “They’re letting her out of the hospital tomorrow.”

The spoon paused halfway between the bowl and Bucky’s mouth before continuing its path.  “Oh,” Bucky said and continued eating.

Steve sighed, “Yeah.  And Nat, Tony and I are going to ask her to stay in the tower.  For protection.  The guys who did this to you and...and to her...they’re still out there and they could try to use her to get to you again.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed upward briefly.  He nodded slowly, “Good...she should stay.”

Steve allowed himself a smile, “I’m glad you agree.  So, I’m going to offer her the other spare room on this floor.”

Bucky flinched as if Steve’s words had physically struck him across the face.  His eyes burned with cold fury, but Steve was more amazed that he was actually making eye contact at all.  He watched as his friend’s shoulders hitched against his sudden, rapid breathing.

“Hey, hey!  Breathe, Bucky.  What is it?”

“She. Can’t. Stay. Here.”

“What?  You just said you wanted her here, Bucky.  We can’t abandon her, she’s still in danger!”

Bucky closed his eyes in frustration, “No.  She can’t stay  _ here _ .”  He gestured with a broad sweep of his arms to the room around them.

Steve huffed in annoyance, “Bucky, why?”

“It’s easier for her to stay away.”

“Easier?” Stever sputtered.  “How can it be--?”

“It’s a clean break.”

A stony silence descended between them.  Steve could not believe his ears.  He knew that Bucky had lost a lot of his former self--but he’d seen him cradle that girl with care and affection.  Watched their bond cut through seventy years of programming.  Breaking a bond was almost unheard of in Steve and Bucky’s time.  It was still a huge taboo today.  He could not seriously be considering this.

“Bucky, no,” he said.  “What are you saying?  Do you know how much that would hurt--both of you?”

“It’s better this way, Steve.  I’m not...suitable.  I might hurt her.  He...I...still want to eliminate her.   _ Mission failed, abort and terminate the witness... _  I can’t take that chance!”

Steve’s eyes filled with horror but he persisted, “But Bucky, you’re better when you’re with her.  I saw it myself!  You’ve had some bad days, but if you spend some time with here I really think it will help.  If you push her away you won’t be protecting her you’ll be embracing the Winter Soldier.  Is that what you want?  Because you might as well run back to Hydra right now--”

Bucky slammed his fists into the wooden table leaving angry dents behind.  

Steve’s brows felt permanent knit together in worry.  With a sigh he finally relented, “Fine.  Fine, she can take one of the rooms off of the main common area downstairs...but, Bucky, you can’t avoid her forever.  You’ll still see each other.  And eventually she’s going to come looking for you.  You can’t just break a bond without telling the other person.  It’s...cruel, Buck.  And I know that’s not you.”

But Bucky’s eyes had lost their luster and he once again retreated into his shell.  He stood abruptly from the table and retreated to his room.  Steve got out his phone to tell Tony the new plan.

***

Tony and Steve came down to meet Sophie once she was given the all clear by her nurse.  Tony gave her the grand tour of the residence areas at the top of the tower, set her up with an I.D. badge that would allow her to come and go as she pleased, and let her know the only off limit area was his lab (for safety, per Pepper).  She was introduced to Jarvis, shown around the common area and finally to her own bedroom.  The whole time she kept looking around corners and over her shoulder.  Steve took notice and lagged behind in her room after Tony took his leave.

She stood silently waiting for him to talk.

“He…,” Steve grimaced in obvious turmoil.  

“What?  Tell me, Steve.”

Steve took a deep breath, “Have you...noticed any changes in, in your bond?”

Sophie’s chest constricted painfully, some hidden part of her knew what was coming.  But the certain knowledge of it would still destroy her.

“No, please… Where is he, I just need to see him and then--”

“I’m real sorry, Sophie.  I know this is awful.  He want’s to break the bond.  He’s decided.  I think...maybe it’s already happening?”

Sophie felt her knees give out and she fell sideways onto her bed.  She sat there, eyes wide and unseeing, frozen in place.  Steve looked stricken.  He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his hands held, palms out, in front of him as if in surrender.

“I’m so sorry, Soph.  What can I do?”

“You’re right,” she said, ignoring his question.  “I can feel the difference.  I could feel him pulling away from me for days.  I was hoping that it was just part of his recovery, though.”

Steve shuffled forward, sitting on the very edge of the bed.  He reached out a hand and patted her shoulder gently.

Sophie hadn’t moved and her eyes still stared blankly ahead of her but she spoke in an approximation of her normal voice, “I’ll be okay.  I will.  You don’t need to worry, really.”

Steve huffed a small laugh, “I’ll worry anyway, just in case, okay?”

That earned a small smile, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated.  They sat there for a long time in silence.  It was nice to have a friend, Sophie thought.  That’s what Steve was now.  It had been so long since she’d had any close friendships, it was a comfort.  She’d always hoped that her soulmate would fill up the parts of her life that were lacking.  But...things changed, she guess.

_ Man….worst soulmate ever. _

_ Huh.  Ex-soulmate? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic should be titled "Angst for the Sake of Angst." I'll think about it...  
> Hey I'm on [Tumblr](https://chelsdub.tumblr.com/) if you're interested in my garbage blog.


	13. Chapter 13

_ Sophie, my blessed girl, I love you forever. _

 

_ Love you forever too, mom. _

 

In times of stress Sophie’s sleeping mind always conjured her mother.  It was a pretty obvious attempt by her subconscious to comfort itself--but it always backfired.  The wound of losing her mom would never fully heal and it hurt every time she dreamed of her.  Now her brain had come up with an even more masochistic way of entertaining itself at night.

 

She watched, frozen in place, as the Winter Soldier strode into her mother’s hospital room and unholstered a pistol holding it against the frail woman’s head.

 

_ Target acquired _ , he said, his voice tinged by a lost Russian accent.  

_ Eliminate it _ , a voice echoed through the room.  Sophie tried to turn her head to find the invisible speaker but she couldn’t move.  The soldier cocked his weapon.

 

_ Fire, soldier. _

 

Oh.  Oh, no.  The voice...it was her own.

 

Sophie startled awake, panting and sweating but unable to move a muscle.  Her bed sheets were twisted and cloying.  Her cheeks felt wet and she realized she’d been crying in her sleep.  She sucked in a shaky breath and finally found the ability to move, sitting up and switching on her bedside lamp.  The bedroom filled with amber light, illuminating the bookshelf and framed photos she’d recovered from her old place.  Most of her stuff was still at the apartment, but she’d moved the bare necessities over to the Tower during her first week out of the hospital.  Apparently Tony was taking care of her rent along with...all her other expenditures.  He’d given her a credit card to pay for anything she needed.  She couldn’t understand his capricious generosity...but she appreciated it.  

 

The warm lamplight made her feel more steady immediately.  She stood up and walked over to her bookshelf, pulling a worn Jane Austen novel off the top shelf and scurrying back under the covers.  She didn’t want to be alone right now and Jane had never let her down.

 

***

 

In the hallway outside her door Bucky stood with his head bowed listening to the muffled sounds of movement from within.  He was barefoot, wearing just a loose fitting pair of sweatpants.  The golden light seeping out from the crack of her door just barely touched the pained features of his face.

 

He listened to the steady shift of turning pages for a few minutes before turning away and retreating back down the corridor to the elevator.

 

***

 

“Hey, kid,” Tony greeted her the next morning in the kitchenette of the common area.

 

Sophie was seated in one of the tall chairs at the breakfast bar, a cup of coffee cradled in her hands and pressed against her forehead.  “Hi,” she said dully.

 

“You look...tired.  Drink the coffee, Sophie...coffee is for drinking not fondling.”

 

She glared at him but took a long sip anyway.  

 

“So, what’s on the sched for today?  Moping? Wallowing?  Oh, no wait, it’s Wednesday.  Wednesday is….brooding!”

 

Sophie sighed but she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips.  She loved to laugh.

 

“Tony,” she replied.  “Are you sure you’re a super _ hero _ and not a super  _ villain _ ?  Are you getting those two mixed up?  There is a big difference, you see--”

 

She heard the swish of the elevator doors opening and turned to see Steve and Clint striding in carrying bags of something smelling strongly of delicious breakfastiness.  They dumped the plastic bags on the large dining table and started unloading containers of pancakes, waffles, bacon and eggs.

 

“Oooo!” Sophie exclaimed.  “What’s the occasion?”

 

“Sophie,” Clint replied with mock condescension. “You’re living with a bunch of superheroes...we don’t need a special occasion to carb load.”

 

She laughed, “Oh, right, silly me.  You’re probably going to spend what, three hours in the gym after this?”

 

“I will,” Clint replied. “Mr. Jerk-face-super-soldier will burn off these calories in about half an hour.”

 

She turned to said super soldier and watched him making up two plates loaded down with bacon, toast, eggs and pancakes.  He set one down at the table and made to walk away with the other.  She felt her stomach sink at the realization of what he was doing.

 

“Is that one for Bucky?” she asked, stopping him in his tracks.  

 

He always looked so apologetic, as if Bucky had dumped her for him.   _ I guess he kind of did _ , she thought.

 

“Yeah,” he responded simply.

 

Sophie sighed, “Please, just tell him to come down and eat with everyone--this is silly!  He shouldn’t have to hide up there because of me.  I promise I won’t break out into hysterics.”

 

Sophie’s words belied the true terror she felt at the prospect of seeing Bucky again.  But she knew it was bound to happen and she wanted it to be on her terms.  With lots of people to buffer the awkwardness.  Steve looked at her with his patented expression of concern, but she held her ground and stared back at him with what she hoped was a look of determination.

 

Tony intervened in what was quickly becoming a stand off, “Hey, yeah it might not be a bad idea, though.  We’ve got some company swinging by a little later and I’d like to get everyone together to talk about it anyway.”

 

“Company?” Steve asked.

 

“Of the Worthy Asgardian variety.”

 

“Right,” Steve said.  He pulled out his cell phone and fiddled with what he still referred to as “the controls” for a few seconds.  

 

_ Okay deep breath.  This’ll be fine.  It’s not like you were just having horrific nightmares about him a few hours ago.  Anyway there’s waffles...waffles make things better. _

 

***

 

Steve described the breakfast invitation as more of a mandatory briefing on upcoming events in the tower.  All the tower’s permanent residents were required to come.  Not a lie...exactly.

 

Sophie was sitting at the table between Steve and Natasha watching as her syrup filled up all the little nooks of her waffle when the elevator doors opened and Bucky stepped out.  She immediately felt like she was about to hyperventilate but hoped it wasn’t too obvious.  The sudden presence of Steve’s reassuring hand on her forearm burst that little bubble.  She flashed her eyes upward briefly to take in his appearance before returning to a rather intense observation of her plate.  She shoved a forkful of waffle in her mouth and watched as Bucky approached the table keeping her eyes somewhere around the level of his neck.   _ It was a nice neck to look at.  Hey!  Bad Sophie.  Stop that. _

 

“You look tired, Bucky,” Natasha remarked, her voice heavy with irony.  “Didn’t sleep much?”

 

Bucky flashed her a murderous look as he took a seat on the other side of Steve.  The entire exchange sailed right over Sophie’s head.  Everyone got on with eating and she allowed herself to float beneath the surface, half-listening to Tony explain that they were assembling the whole team to form a game plan in taking on the remaining Hydra factions they knew about.  Thor (along with Jane Foster and her intern), Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, would all be arriving that afternoon.

 

Sophie ate and watched, surreptitiously, as Bucky poured syrup and served himself sausages and toast.  It was all so normal, so domestic.  So different from the ways she’d been allowed to know him in the short time they’d been bonded.  It wasn’t fair.  She felt, infuriatingly, like she might cry again.  Rather than cause a scene she stood up abruptly grabbing her plate and some of the empty dishes on the table and bringing them into the kitchen to rinse and load into the dishwasher.

 

Apart from a beat of silence the others let her have her retreat without comment.  She ran the faucet and started the work of pre-rinsing the dishes.  The sink  was also half full of dishes that someone had left there the night before.   _ Superheroes, _ she thought mentally shaking her head.   _ Too good to do their own dishes. _

 

She huffed a little laugh, lost in her own thoughts, and carelessly picked up what turned out to be a rather large, sharp kitchen knife by the blade.  The sudden sting sank into her palm and she dropped it immediately.

 

“Oh, fuck!  Ouch ow ow ow,” she cradled her soapy bleeding hand against her body.  Before she had time to do much more than the preliminary cursing she was suddenly being held by strong arms, a clean kitchen towel pressed into her palm and firm but gentle pressure applied to the wound.

 

She looked down at it and saw that it was bleeding quite a lot, actually.  The blood was already seeping through the cloth.  She swayed a little on her feet and felt Bucky’s metallic hand clench around her shoulder to steady her.  She looked up then, completely startled.  Bucky was hovering over her a look of gutted concern naked on his face.  He was so close she could smell him--the sweet syrupy scent of breakfast on his breath, the musky masculine scent of whatever soap he’d washed with.  She felt a strangled little cry lodge itself in her throat and she jerked backward.

 

“No,” she said.  “You can’t...you can’t do that, Bucky.  Not now, please”

 

The tears she’d been avoided now came falling over her cheeks in fat droplets.  She’d only backed up a pace from him and he was still holding her wounded hand tightly.  He stared at her as if he couldn’t look away.

 

“Jarvis,” she heart Tony’s voice as if it were miles away.  “We need medical, please.”

 

“Right away,” the smooth British voice answered.

 

Within minutes a nurse from the medical ward downstairs arrived with a first aid kit.  He approached the couple in the kitchen and moved to break them apart so he could examine the wound.  Bucky and Sophie were still standing there frozen, trapped in each other’s eyes.  Bucky let out a feral growl when the nurse tried to push him away.  But it was enough to break the spell and he relinquished her hand quickly looking abruptly very embarrassed.  

 

Sophie dropped her gaze as Bucky retreated and made a hasty exit.   _ Damn _ , Sophie thought.   _ I guess waffles don’t work on everything. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [MissZombieCake](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MissZombieCake/pseuds/MissZombieCake) for enabling my angst addiction with your kind comment! Totally inspired the opening nightmare scene which I really ended up liking a lot. I love the image of Bucky hovering outside her door wanting to make sure she's okay but unable to actually reach out to her. 
> 
> And then the rest of the chapter kind of fell apart and there were waffles and who even lives in the Avengers Tower anyway. Everyone I guess. Oh and yeah...DARCY IS ON THE WAY. 
> 
> Love you guys so much!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains: 1) Hope. 2) Darcy. 3) Darcy/Sam!?!?!?
> 
> Sorry for the delay, I've been brewing ideas for this story in my brain for a while. Once again thank you to each and every commenter and liker and reader. You guys rock and inspire me.

That night...

_ The asset stood, immobile, muscles tense but frozen, in the middle of the prep room.  The floors sloped gently toward a drain in the middle of the room and a cold, sharp spray of water assaulted him.  A handler stood off to the side, pointing the hose at him and sneering.  When they were done cleaning him the handler strode forward, grabbing an arm and scrubbing him roughly with a threadbare towel.  The man’s fingers dug into the wrecked scarring around the asset’s soulmark. _

 

_ “Aww,” he mocked. “Does the Winter Soldier have a little bitch waiting for him?  You think you’ll get a happy ending, soldat?  I think they’ll make you kill her.  Or maybe...maybe they’ll turn her into something just like you…” _

 

Bucky woke with a start.  The sheets were soaked in sweat and his breath came in rapid gulps.  He felt the phantom burning pain of ice cold water pelting against his skin.  With a pitiful keen he curled his legs up to his chest and leaned back against the headboard.  He sat there, catching his breath and hugging himself.  Without realizing what he was doing his metallic hand found it’s way to his right forearm, gently stroking the words inked into his flesh.

 

His eyes stared blankly into the dim corner of the room, his breathing gradually steadying until the sudden creak at the doorway had him launching half out of bed and ready to attack.

 

Sophie stood there, wide-eyed, in nothing but an oversized sleepshirt and a pair of fuzzy socks.  She stood in the doorway, one hand on the knob and looked like she was ready to flee at an instant’s notice.

 

_ Not that she would make it very far.  The Winter Soldier could tackle and incapacitate her in approximately four seconds. _

 

Bucky shook his head furiously, chasing away the asset’s frozen words.

 

“What are you doing here?” he finally ground out.  He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so threatening but he was still wresting his way out of the dream.

 

Sophie’s voice was small, but it still rang out in the silent darkness, “Are you okay?”

 

Bucky finally sat back on the bed and sighed.  “I’m just fine.  But I’m not safe, you should go.”

 

Sophie looked like she was contemplating his advice.  But she had to ask the question burning in her brain.  With eyes downcast she finally said, “Why can I still feel you?  I felt your pain and your fear.  I came because I thought you might be hurt.  Why can I still feel you if you...if we’re not…”

 

She looked like she was going to cry and Bucky really could not deal with that.  It had been one thing for the Winter Soldier to make a girl cry, quite another thing for him...Bucky Barnes...whoever he was.  

 

“It takes time.  You can’t just surgically remove a soulbond.  It takes time and will,” his voice was steady but he felt his palms go slick with sweat.  He didn’t want to hurt her...but that was the whole point.  If he kept this girl he would hurt her eventually.  He couldn’t be trusted, not when he woke up thinking he was still a programmed assassin.

 

“Oh,” she said simply.  She stood there still as if waiting to be dismissed.

 

“You should go,” he repeated.  When she visibly cringed from his harsh words he added, “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

 

He stood up, pulling on a t-shirt and walking to stand next to her.  He looked down at the top of her head, taking in how very miniature she seemed compared to him.  She was about a foot shorter and far less imposing.  He felt like she could easily be swallowed up by the darkness of the Tower at night.  They walked back to the elevator and descended to the main residential floor in silence.  Sophie stood awkwardly in the elevator, hands tugging at the hem of her nightshirt.  Bucky stood more or less in parade rest.  The doors slid open with barely a sound and she stepped out before him.  He trailed behind her.  They both paused outside her bedroom door and she turned as if to address him but no words seemed forthcoming.

 

“So...um…” she said dumbly.  “Thanks.  Sorry for bothering you.”

 

Bucky looked like he wanted to be doing something with his hands.  They hovered in the air in front of him but he forced them to his sides.  

 

“Good night, Sophie.”

 

She vanished into her bedroom shutting the door behind her.  Bucky stood there for a moment before turning back to the elevator.  He didn’t miss the flash of red hair from down the hallway or the soft chuckle that followed in his wake.

 

***

 

The main floor of the Avenger’s Tower residential area was starting to fill up.  Sophie now had neighbors!  Thor and Jane had their own floor somewhere close to the labs so Jane could be near her work.  Same for Dr. Banner.  But Darcy, Jane’s intern, and Sam Wilson both had rooms on Sophie’s floor.  Darcy’s was right next door and Sophie could already tell they were going to be friends, although the other girl was way more comfortable in her own skin than Sophie ever would be.  The morning after she arrived Darcy strode out of her bedroom wearing only pair of the shortest boyshort panties known to man and a tiny camisole.  Sophie and Sam were sitting at the breakfast bar and Sophie nearly had to pick his jaw up off the floor when Darcy strode into the kitchen.

 

Sam cleared his throat loudly and tried to look suave sitting over his bowl of Cap’n Crunch, “How you doin’?”

 

Darcy peaked around the door to the refrigerator and quirked an eyebrow at him suggestively.  

 

“Well, hellooo,” she replied in a mock smarmy voice.  She turned to Sophie and spoke normally, “Hey!  You’re young, you’re female, you’re ordinarily-powered.  Let’s be friends.”

 

Oh.  Darcy was so obviously a shiny, happy _ cool  _ girl that Sophie was taken aback that the young intern would even be in need of friendship, much less her own.  Sophie couldn’t help but be immediately drawn into Darcy’s orbit.  People like this, charismatic, comfortable, funny, she could not resist.  She’d never felt the easy confidence that Darcy displayed so naturally, but just being near it made Sophie feel better about herself.

 

“Yes, please,” Sophie replied.  “I’m surrounded by a little too much testosterone these days.”

 

Darcy widened her eyes in playful shock.  “Too much testosterone?”  she slid her gaze over to Sam and continued flirtatiously, “No such thing.”

 

Sam smirked and saluted her with his cereal spoon.

  
_ Wow, she makes that look so easy.   _ Darcy winked at Sophie before dragging the girl back to her bedroom and slamming the door on Sam and his ego.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? Yay? Boo? Go home you're drunk?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow if you have stuck with this fic through that long wait between chapters... all I can say is: 1. You're amazing 2. You're desperate and 3. Sorry! I know I hate waiting and I'm so grateful that you did!   
> In between updates I got married! It was a lot of work planning the big family event so I guess that's my excuse. I truly hope you enjoy this and yeah, there's more to come.

Being friends with Darcy Lewis was like standing in the center of a whirlwind.  Darcy was all energy and laughter and sarcasm and her friendship was such a balm to Sophie’s disappointed heart.  Sophie had lived most of her life as an introverted worrier. Darcy was the exact opposite. Her bedroom was a metaphor for her personality.  Within hours of moving in she had decorated it with explosions of color. Multicolored, sheer drapes were arranged around her bed, the walls were covered in artwork, photos and various ephemera.  Sophie had stared in wonder that first day she was invited inside.

 

“Your bedroom looks like the inside of a punk rock genie bottle!”

 

Darcy smirked and flopped onto her bed, snuggling into the fuschia toned comforter, “Thanks, Soph!”

 

They sat around listening to music and talking about their lives for hours.  Darcy was technically employed as Jane’s assistant, but apparently that didn’t prevent her from indulging in a long lie in that morning.

 

“So what’s your deal?  You heard about my run in with tall, big and blond--how did you get hooked up with the super hero brigade?” Darcy had been showering her with questions all morning, sensing that Sophie wasn’t likely to ramble on without a lot of prompting.

 

Sophie squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, “It’s complicated.”

 

“Duh!” Darcy laughed. “Kinda guessed that.”

 

Sophie sighed.  “It’s a soulmate...related...thing.  That’s how I met them.”

 

Darcy’s eyes went round as saucers, “Whaaa?  Who is it? The Cap!? No...Hawkeye? Ohhh...or Natasha?”

 

Sophie collapsed with her face in a pillow at the barrage from Darcy, “It’s...Bucky.”

 

“Bu--?  Ohhh,” Darcy said with sudden understanding.  “You mean...Cap’s bff slash psycho killer? Err, no offense.”

 

“That’s the one,” Sophie replied blithely.  “He kind of kidnapped me after we first bonded.  Then I got rescued...then I got abducted again...then rescued again.  Now I’m here living with the Avengers, only Bucky decided he doesn’t want me.”

 

Darcy yanked away the pillow under which Sophie was hiding, “Back up, he doesn’t want you?  Tough! It’s kind of a biological imperative, right?”

 

Sophie rolled over and stared at the colorfully draped ceiling over the bed.  “It’s possible to get rid of a bond if you ignore it for long enough. I guess.  That’s what he’s trying to do anyway.”

 

Darcy swore under her breath and crawled over to Sophie, laying down next to her and squeezing her shoulder.  “I’m sorry, that sucks.”

 

“Yeah, it does.”

 

***

 

Thus began Darcy’s campaign to punish/win over the Winter Soldier.  

 

Now that the team was assembled, Bucky was forced to come out of his shell more and more.  There were strategy meetings, forced therapy sessions, debriefs with Fury, and even a few “family movie nights” enforced by Tony.  Sophie was slowly adjusting to seeing him and learning to ignore the pang of yearning that still came through her soulbond whenever he was near.  Her body would scream at her to go to him but she would stuff the voice down inside her, hug herself, and go find Darcy or Sam to distract her.

 

Bucky was doing well.  Living with Steve was helping him to recover his memories.  He wasn’t really the same Bucky Barnes anymore. But he was less and less the brooding Winter Soldier.  He still struggled with the bond. Every time he watched Sophie retreat to the comfort of her new friends he felt an unfair flare of jealousy rise within him.  He hated himself for it. He knew that Sophie deserved to have friends and to forge new connections with others...especially considering he was denying her. But still, he burned with jealousy when she laughed at something Sam said.

 

That was where Darcy came in.  She had been subtly...maybe not so subtly, rubbing it in Bucky’s face.  Sophie, bless her heart, was oblivious, but Darcy made concerted efforts to bring Sophie and Sam closer together whenever Bucky was around.  Sam was no dummy and could see what was going on. He was also an unrepentant flirt so he had no problem with it.

 

It sort of came to a head at one of Tony’s enforced family movie nights. The chosen film was  _ War Games _ , featuring a baby-faced Matthew Broderick. Everyone piled onto the huge sectional couch in the common area. “Huge” meaning there was enough space on this couch for every Avenger to sprawl out and still leave space for the normies to sit comfortably. Despite the more than adequate room, Darcy managed to wedge Sophie in between herself and Sam in a nice cozy “friend-wich.”

 

“Friendship!” she sing-songed, reaching across Sophie to grab Sam’s arm in a group hug which smooshed Sophie in the middle. Sam, totally on board with Darcy’s campaign, hammed it up and pulled Sophie in tighter against him.

 

“Internal...bleeding...not that...long ago!” Sophie gasped and they finally released her. 

 

Darcy eyed Bucky on the far end of the couch and noted how he looked like he was about to murder a litter of kittens.

 

“Sorry, Soph,” She said, loud enough to be certain of being overheard, “We just love and appreciate our little outcast.”

 

Bucky fidgeted next to Steve, flexing his fists and cracking his jaw in frustration. 

 

“Gee...thanks,” Sophie responded sarcastically as the movie started up. 

 

“SHHH!” Tony shushed everyone obnoxiously.

 

Sophie had never actually seen this movie and found herself laughing at the outdated tech but still getting sucked into the plot. She and Darcy shared a bowl of popcorn between them and Sam kept stealing handfuls at a time until Darcy finally started a minor food fight with Sophie in the crossfire getting pelted with kernels. 

 

“If you kids don’t pipe down I’m calling the manager,” Natasha joked, although her eyes were riveted to the screen and Sophie kinda thought she was genuinely annoyed so she stuck out her elbows, jabbing each companion in the side so they’d settle down. 

 

Once  _ War Games _ finished Clint insisted on a DVR marathon of  _ Dog Cops _ . Darcy shouted her agreement but Natasha said she’d pass--she’d secretly caught up on the last season without Clint, who flashed her a stricken look. Tony and Pepper wandered off as well but everyone else hunkered in for some wholesome canine law enforcement--even Steve and Bucky, though they shared a confused glance between them at the name of the show. Sophie had been surreptitiously watching them at that moment and smiled to herself a little. It had been a few weeks since Bucky decided to break their bond and it still hurt...but she was glad to see him healing and reconnecting with his friend. 

 

Darcy, who felt instinctively protective of her friend, leaned in and whispered, “Stop those fuzzy feels right now!”

 

Sophie stifled a snicker at Darcy’s mocking directive but followed it, looking away from Bucky and taking a sip of the beer in her hands. She didn’t really drink, but Darcy had brought it back from the kitchen for her so she sipped it idly as the episodes ran on. After a while she felt her eyelids drooping and placed the bottle on the low coffee table for safekeeping. Darcy was cuddled up to her on her right and Sam’s solid form sat invitingly on her left like a big muscly pillow. She shifted and leaned some of her weight experimentally against him. He immediately lifted his arm and wrapped it around both of them so that Sophie could snuggle into his side. In minutes her eyes had drifted shut and she and Darcy looked like a couple of conked out puppies sleeping in a pile against Sam.

Sam looked away from the T.V. and caught Bucky’s eyes watching him--they weren’t the usual cold of the Winter Soldier’s fury. They burned like coals and Sam had to look away lest he be scorched.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Two updates in one day? Is she crazy? Possessed? Possessed by creative inspiration! I am really enjoying the Darcy and Sam parts of this story, btw. It's definitely a little peripheral ship that I didn't realize would happen until they busted in on their own.

As the weeks passed the tower grew to feel more like home for Sophie, and the magical super-powered residents felt more like family. Before all of this Sophie had basically lived in self-imposed isolation. After her mother’s death she got by on insurance payments for a while. She sold her childhood house and moved into an apartment she could barely afford. She lost touch with friends from college and rarely went out. She was depressed and grieving. Meeting her soulmate and everything that came after...that didn’t do much to help things. What was helping was the sense of family she felt with Darcy, Sam, Steve...even Tony. Also therapy.

She started going the week after they moved her into her own room at the Tower. Pepper approached her about it. Her kind eyes and earnest smile had only made the pain in Sophie’s chest ache even more. But she knew she needed help. The therapist, Anne, was great. They talked about everything. Not just the trauma of her kidnapping and torture, but about her mother’s death and her sense of isolation, her affection for her new friends in the tower, and...mostly...her sorrow at the loss of her soulbond.

“You’re allowed to grieve for your bond, Sophie,” Anne always spoke in a quiet therapist voice. “This is hard. Not so unusual, though. Bonds sometimes don’t work out. Especially traumatic bonds like the one between you and Mr. Barnes.”

Sophie sucked in a breath at the sound of his name. Even weeks after his rejection, the last tendrils of the soulbond still hung between them. When she thought about him (which was...often) it physically hurt. Like an open wound in her chest. She rubbed her hand over her sternum and grimaced in pain.

“But *how long* will it hurt?” she asked with an edge of desperation.

“Until you come to terms with it,” was the unhelpful reply. “That’s what we’re here for. That’s one reason we’re here…”

_ Dang _ . She couldn’t just pop some Alka Seltzer?

 

***

 

It took weeks, months, but a time finally came when it didn’t hurt her to think of him. She could cross him in the hall and manage a sad smile. And Bucky looked better and healthier every time she saw him. What helped the most were her new found friends, especially Darcy and Sam. They could always make her laugh even if she was having a bad day. They became inseparable. Darcy even scammed Dr. Foster into hiring Sophie as a second assistant. 

“I need *another* assistant?” Jane asked incredulously when Darcy had broached the subject.

“Sure do, boss! And Sophie’s your gal!” She flashed a thumbs up at said gal, who was lurking on the periphery and trying to look like she might be helpful with science.

“Why do I need another assistant, again?” Jane scrunched up her face. 

Darcy shrugged, “I’m not motivated enough. I need Sophie as my emotional support animal.”

Jane grumbled but went with it. Her research was fully funded by a Stark grant, they could afford to hire another assistant or twenty.

Things weren’t great. Not yet. But Sophie could see a future for herself now. She would live with or without her mate.

 

***

 

Bucky fought the therapy for a long time. He refused to go. And when he finally gave in (because Stevie looked so absolutely gutted whenever Bucky had a bad day) he didn’t talk for the first three sessions. It was hard. Sometimes when he sat in that stupid office he would flash to the mission debriefings as the Winter Soldier. He’d get mixed up and launch into a report of his last mission.  _ Mission Status: Failed. Report for punishment.  _ He’d go under and the therapist would have to call Steve. Steve would sit there and talk to him quietly about...anything. Bucky just sat frozen, his muscles twitching and his eyes burning with unshed tears. Until he finally came out and his head cleared. 

It was hard. But he found that the more he went, the more he let himself talk, and the more engaged he became with life in the tower...the better things got. Of course, all this meant that he was forced to see Sophie more often than he’d like. Bucky cringed at his own train of thought. It wasn’t that he didn’t *want* to see her. It was that he didn’t want to cause her pain by forcing her to see him. He hated himself for what he’d done...for what he was doing to her. But it was for her own safety. He wasn’t suitable. Even months after his programming failed he still sometimes woke in the night with the certainty that he was surrounded by threats which needed to be neutralized. How could he ever be safe for her?

 

***

 

At last, it was inevitable that they’d be pushed together by circumstance. They did, after all, live one floor away from each other. 

Darcy and Sam were finally making their flirtation a little more legitimate and had gone out on an actual date leaving Sophie’s floor pretty much deserted. Steve was speaking at a charity gala with Tony and Pepper so Bucky was alone on his floor. Despite trying so hard to avoid her, something inside him just pulled him over to the elevator and he found himself, without any conscious intention, walking into the common area to find her sprawled out on the couch.

“Hey,” he said quietly, shifting from foot to foot in the entryway.

She looked up from her phone, eyes wide, “Hey. What are you up to?”

Bucky’s Adam’s apple bobbed visibly as he swallowed, “Mind if I watch T.V. for a while?”

He had a television upstairs. Sophie watched him for a long moment before nodding silently and reaching over to hand him the remote. Bucky sat down a comical distance from her on the huge couch.

She gave a weak laugh, “Don’t worry. I won’t, like, attack you with my love or anything.”

Bucky nodded but looked even more uncomfortable.  _ Jesus Christ _ , Sophie felt her face heat up in embarrassment.  _ Smooth. _

Bucky fumbled with the remote and put on an episode of Dog Cops. He smiled ruefully at her, “Clint got me hooked on this show.”

“Me too!” she exclaimed sitting up and scooching closer to him. “It’s so good! They’re all such good boys and girls!”

Bucky’s laugh sounds more natural and they settle in to the show. It’s...nice. It’s...friendly. For once they don’t have the pressure of the bond weighing on them. They’re just hanging out together. 

Sophie goes to the kitchen for a coke and comes back with one for Bucky. He thanks her and their fingers just graze together as she passes him the can, wet with condensation, and she can almost pretend that she doesn’t still feel the residual thrill of the bond perking up at the touch of his skin. 

_ Huh. Still there after all this time. _


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do what I want. Haha enjoy?

Bucky sat on the edge of his bed shaking with silent sobs. His fingers fisted into the mattress, knuckles white with tension. He gulped in air and his face crumpled in pain but he remained silent. The handlers didn’t like it when he spoke out of turn or made noise. He had to stay quiet as the cold water pelted his raw skin--as the chair’s restraints tightened around his limbs--as the doctors readied their needles. If he made a sound he’d...he’d…

 

_ No. No. _ He was being quiet because if Steve heard him crying in the middle of the night *again* he’d have that look on his face tomorrow morning. Sorrow mixed with helplessness mixed with disappointment. Bucky couldn’t take that look anymore. He just wanted to be better. He wanted to not constantly feel like he carried the burden of other people’s emotions and expectations. As if on cue he felt the echo of a pang in his chest where once the warmth of his soulbond had bloomed. He knew it was still there, weak and nearly snuffed. Every so often, especially on nights like this, he still felt the connection. 

 

He thought about the other night, watching TV with Sophie while everyone else was out. She’d thrown back her head in laughter at some clueless old-man comment of his and he’d blushed with pleasure and satisfaction at making her laugh. When he was with her it was like he was a new version of himself; neither the smooth talking ladies man of the 40s nor the cold-eyed assassin. She was the type of person whose attention made you feel special, like her sparkling gaze could cast a spotlight on his dark soul. Thinking about her made the ache inside more prominent, but his sobs subsided. Without thinking he rose from his bed and crept out into the hallway.

 

Her bedroom door loomed before him: the last obstacle. He stood in the darkness of the hallway and questioned himself.  _ What the hell was he doing? _ He’d just spent weeks and weeks denying the connection between them and causing them both untold emotional pain so that they could  _ finally _ get to this point: the bond was almost gone and she could be free of the danger and pain that came with being his soulmate. And just as he’d seemingly accomplished his “goal” he wanted to go back? Because, make no mistake, walking through this door meant re-establishing the bond. He could already feel the little spark inside *singing* at being so close to his mate. If he did this there’d be no turning back. He was not *that* cruel. He stood there for long minutes, wavering in the darkness unable to make a decision. 

 

A cough from behind him drew him out of his own head. He whipped around, arms raised for a fight, to find Natasha leaning against the entry to the common room and smirking at him. 

 

“You won’t hurt her,  _ Yasha _ ,” she spoke the words quietly and a shiver went through him at the familiar name.

 

“How can you know that?” he countered.

 

She walked forward and slowly reached forward, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I just know it.”

 

He breathed in shakily and nodded his head. 

 

***

 

Sophie scrunched up her face in confusion as she blinked slowly out of sleep. Someone was holding her hand. She opened her eyes, allowing a moment for them to adjust to the darkness of the room. Bucky was crouched on the floor next to her bed. He was clutching her hand in both of his and leaning his head over them as if in prayer.

 

“Bucky?” she asked, her voice gravelly from sleep. “Are you okay?”

 

She watched the rise and fall of his broad shoulders as he breathed in and out. His fingers squeezed gently around hers and he looked up at her, eyes red-rimmed and wide. For a second she imagined him as a little boy, crying and seeking comfort. He watched her face for a long moment before finally saying just one word.

 

“Please.” 

 

His voice was edged with desperation and loneliness. And hope. She felt the flare of recognition in her chest as the bond reached out for him. But she hesitated. She watched his face for a long moment and thoughts flashed through her mind. There had been so much pain. He betrayed their bond before she even learned his name. And when they finally had a chance to be together in peace he rejected her. It took so long for her to feel okay. Could she risk this? Could she reach out to him now even knowing there was a chance that he might reject her again in the morning? She guarded her still-healing heart in that moment and watched him. He was shaking, his face was taut with anxiety, and he held her hand like a life-preserver. She took a deep breath and made her decision. With a squeeze of his hands she nodded her head and shifted to make room for him on the tiny bed.

 

“C’mere,” she spoke sleepily and opened her arms for him. 

 

He climbed onto the bed, his huge body dwarfing hers. For a second he lay stiffly, unsure how much intimacy he should be allowed. Sophie broke the tension by scooting forward and laying her face down next to his on the plush pillow. Their faces were just inches apart and she could feel the tickle of his breath move over her lips. Her hands found his and she twined their fingers together between them. The cautiously happy bond inside her swelled a bit at this feeling of closeness. Her eyes caught his and they stayed like that, watching each other, for a long time. 

 

“Are you okay?” she asked again. Something must have brought him here tonight and she guessed it wasn’t happy.

 

He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a breath, chasing away the echoes of the nightmare.

 

“I feel better now…” he admitted, his words a soft whisper in the dark sanctuary of her bedroom.

 

She smiled and answered, “Me too.”

 

Sophie shifted closer and moved his arms until they were wrapped around her and she could bury her face against his warm, strong chest. Tomorrow morning might bring a return to the way things were, but for tonight she had her soulmate. They fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms and warmed by the strength of their healing bond. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end

Breaking a soulbond is a difficult and painful process. The reverse, knitting it back together, is much the same.

 

When Sophie woke the next morning she felt something she hadn’t felt in weeks-- the glowing warmth of the soulbond. It wasn’t the thrilling buzz of electricity that flared to life when the Winter Soldier first snatched her from danger months before...more like a fluttering little light. But it was there.

 

She was scared of what that could mean. The bond was clearly re-established...but what if Bucky changed his mind? She didn’t think she could go through that pain again. Wishing she could just stay in bed forever with this warm feeling inside, she lay there for several minutes steadying her breath and checking in with her surroundings. 

 

She felt Bucky’s warm presence still beside her and breathed out a silent sigh of relief. She’d half-expected him to abscond in the night and never mention it again. He lay on his side with one arm draped over her waist. She cracked open one eye and was rewarded with the vision of Bucky, mouth agape and hair tousled, lightly snoring on the pillow beside her. She smiled and gingerly shifted around until she faced him. His face was unmarked by worry or stress. He looked so innocent and soft. Her gaze flicked down to his pink, full lips and she felt her breathing quicken. In a moment of bravery she moved to close the distance and claim those lips.

 

The bedroom door suddenly banged open causing Sophie to jump back and hit her head against the wall. Bucky bolted upright, turning his head in wild confusion seeking the source of the sudden commotion.

 

“ _ The source of the sudden commotion _ ”...Darcy Lewis could put that in her e-mail signature.

 

Darcy strode into the room loudly proclaiming her need for “Sophie time” before freezing at the sight before her. The sight was Sophie, clutching her aching head, in bed with a shirtless Bucky. Darcy’s face was a study in mingled shock and amusement. 

 

“Oh...I…this seems like a private moment I’ll just be going,” Darcy spun around but poked her head back in at the last minute and grinned at her friend, “Nice going, Soph!”

 

Sophie groaned in profound embarrassment and sank back into the blankets.

 

“Sorry,” she grumbled, covering her face with a blanket. “She’s...socially challenged.”

 

There was silence for a long moment and she dared to peek up at Bucky. He was still sitting upright, staring into his own lap with a look of confusion on his face. Sophie felt her chest constrict and tried to prepare herself for whatever he might say.

 

“You okay?” she asked.

 

“Yeah…” he spoke slowly as the fog of sleep cleared. “It’s just...I’m just glad that I didn’t...sometimes when I wake up suddenly I get confused about where I am and...and *who* I am…”

 

He looked over at her with a look of such sorrowful apology that she felt her heart swell with sympathy. She squirmed upward until she sat beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

 

“It’ll be okay. I have those moments too, sometimes,” she admitted. “Sometimes I think I’m still in that Hydra cell. Or...or the hotel room.”

 

Bucky grimaced at the memories but made no move to pull away.

 

“I’ve hurt you so much, Sophie,” he said and his tone sounded lost and scared. “And...and you still want me?”

 

He turned to meet her eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment. Sophie took in the lines of worry and stress on his brow---those lines which had been invisible in sleep. She watched his blue eyes waver with uncertainty. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips and she was reminded of the interrupted kiss. She sucked in a breath and leaned closer, a questioning look in her eyes. His own eyes lit with understanding and a small smirk spread on his lips. In that moment he looked every bit the self-assured, swaggering young man from the film reels. He dipped forward and pressed his lips to hers in their first kiss. It was incredibly gentle. His soft lips just brushed against hers. He reached up a hand to cup her face and darted out his tongue to deepen the kiss. Sophie let out a mewl of satisfaction and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. The kiss went on for ages yet it ended far too soon.

 

Bucky drew back and looked into her eyes questioningly. She still had not answered him.

 

“Yes,” she said. “I still want you. All of you. Every part of you, even the parts you don’t like...even the parts that aren’t healed yet. You make me feel whole and happy and I think you feel the same way when we’re together. I can’t… I can’t go back to the way things have been.”

 

Bucky let out a long, relieved sigh and offered her a small smile, “I know you can’t. I can’t either. I don’t want to deny what’s between us anymore. I hate that our bond started out the way that it did...but...but I don’t think I’d be here if it weren’t for you, Sophie. I’d still be doing Hydra’s bidding, I’d still be hurting innocent people. You know you saved me, right?”

 

Sophie thought back to the years she’d spent imagining how her soulmate would swoop in and save the day. She’d always imagined the scene--a car crash, a fire, an earthquake--and the words spoken. But she’d never been able to picture the person who would one day claim her heart. She watched him now, golden sunlight haloing around his messy hair, his eyes lit with hope and yearning, his mouth flushed and swollen with their kiss. She couldn’t have imagined everything that happened after their first meeting. Couldn’t have imagined the pain and fear, the loss and hope. She couldn’t have imagined how achingly beautiful he would be. How one touch could set her soul on fire, one look could melt her into a puddle. All those years of imagining and she’d never had a chance of conjuring the depth of love she felt for him right now.

 

“We saved each other,” she said and leaned in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So this is the end. I know some of you will wish that I'd written 18 more chapters on Sophie and Bucky. And...to be honest I originally had it in mind that I was going to force them into one more adrenaline-fueled disaster before the happily ever after. But then this soft little loving moment popped up and I thought, "This is where it ends." It ends with a moment of love, acceptance, and healing. Neither character is fully "better" but they're going to help each other. I really liked the idea of Sophie being the one to "save" Bucky considering how the words she grew up made her think about her soulmate as a savior. I know some of you will be disappointed that there aren't 18 more chapters with Sophie and Bucky, but I think this is more true to the story I wanted to tell. So, I really hope you guys liked it! Find me on Tumblr: [chelsdub](https://chelsdub.tumblr.com/) and be my friend!


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